a a G'/eZ s,
















THE
HOLY AND PROFANE STATES.
BY
THOMAS FULLER.
WITH
SOME ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR
AND HIS WRITINGS.
BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.
1864.




CASMBRIDGE:
STETREOTYPED BY BI. O. HOUGTITON.
Presswork by John Wilson & Son, Boston.




ADVERTISEMENT.
IN order to bring this volume within a reasonable compass, portions, including the Lives,
have been omitted, as less peculiar and interesting. Many passages and a few chapters
have been excluded, as incompatible with the
refined delicacy of modern manners.  The
most valuable parts, however, it is believed,
are retained, everything, indeed, which readers
in general, at the present day, would wish to
have inserted.
To ascertain the true text, the editions of
1642 and 1648 have been carefully collated.








CONTENTS.
PAGE
LIFE  OF  THOMAS  FULLER.............................                             7
Preface...............................................                           31
The Good Wife........................................  33
The Good Husband....................................   36
The Good Parent......................................   39
The Good Child.......................................   43
The Good Master......................................   46
The Good Servant.....................................  49
The Good Widow......................................   52
The Constant Virgin................................   55
The Elder Brother...............................   61
The Younger Brother..................................   64
The Good Advocate....................................  69
The Good Judge.......................................    71
The Good Physician................  76
The Faithful Minister.................................   79
~The Controversial Divine...............................   89
The True Church Antiquary.............5...........   95
The Good Parishioner...............................  100
The Good Schoolmaster.............................  104
The General Artist......................... 110
The Good Merchant....................................  114
The Good Yeoman.....................................  118
The Handicraftsman................................... 123
The Good Soldier......................................  127
The Good General......................... 139
The Good Sea-Captain................................ 144
The True Gentleman................................... 148
The Virtuous Lady.....................................  153
The Wise Statesman..................................  162
The Ambassador......................................  171
Of Hospitality........................................ 182




vi                                    CONTENTS.
PAGE
Of Jesting............................................  185
Of Self-Praising...... 187
Of    Slf~raiing..................................... 18
Of Travelling.....  I...................... 189
Of Cmrnpany.........................................      193
Of Apparel........................................... 197
Of BUilding.                                                                                 200
Of Building z........................  20
Of Anger.....................................                          205
Of expecting  Preferment............................... 207
Of Memory.......................................... 211
Of Fancy............................................   215
Of Natural Fools......................................  220
Of Recreations........................................ 224
Of Tombs......2.....................................  229
Of Deformity......................................... 233
Of Plantations.......................................   237
Of Contentment.......................................                                       240
Of Books............................................. 245
Of Time-Serving...................................... 249
Of Modera tion....................................... 254
Of Gravity.................................... 258
Of Marriage...........................................  263
Of Fame........................................ 266
Of Ministers' Maintenance.............................. 272
The  Witch............................................ 283
The Atheist......................................... 289
The  Hypocrite.........................................  296
The  Heretic.......................................... 299
The Liar..............................................                                      302
The Common  Barrator.................................  305
The Degenerous  Gentleman............................  308
The  Traitor...........................................                                     318
The  Tyrant.....................................  321




SOME ACCOUNT
OF THE
LIFE AND WRITINGS
OF
THOMAS FULLER.
THOMAS FULLER, the author of the following
work, was an eminent historian and divine of
the Church of England, in the stormy times of
Charles I. and the Commonwealth. He was born
in 1608, at Aldwinkle, in Northamptonshire, a town
which a'few years later acquired the additional
celebrity of being the birthplace of Dryden. After
being initiated in the rudiments of learning by his
father, who was the minister of the parish, he was
sent, at the early age of twelve years, to Queen's
College, Cambridge, where he applied himself to his
academic exercises with extraordinary diligence and
success.  Soon after he had taken the degree of
Master of Ar's, ill 1628, he was chosen minister of
St. Bennet's parish, in the town of Cambridge;
"and here," says the author of his Life published in
1661, "by the most sublime divinity, in the most
ravishing elegancies, he attracted the audience of




8           LIFE AND WRITINGS
the University, and became a very popular preacher
at those years when others are scarce publicly
known."  In 1631, he made his first appearance as
an author, in a poem entitled " David's hainous Sin,
heartie Repentance and heavie Punishment," (thin
8vo).  Soon afterwards he left Cambridge, on
being presented to the rectory of Broad-Windsor, in
Dorsetshire, where he discharged his ministerial duties for several years with great fidelity and acceptance.  In 1640, appeared his "Historie of the
Holy Warre," (folio,) which met with a favorable
reception, and passed through three editions in a
few years.
He was now induced, by the ferment in the nation, which indicated an approaching civil war, to
remove to London, where he expected to enjoy
greater security than in his country residence, and
at the same time might have more ready access to
the works and conversation of the learned; those
"standing and walking libraries," as he quaintly
calls them. In the metropolis he soon acquired
great reputation as a preacher, and was chosen lecturer of the Savoy, in the Strand. "Here," says
the author of his Life, " he gave such general satisfaction, became so famous, and was thronged with
such distant congregations, that those of his own
cure were in a manner excommunicated from their
own church, unless their timeous diligence kept pace
with their devotions; the Doctor affording them no
more time for their extraordinaries on the Lord's
day than what he allowed his habitual abstinence on
all the rest. He had in his narrow chapel two audi



OF THOMAS FULLER.               9
ences, one without the pale, and another within; the
windows of that little church and the sextonry so
crowded, as if bees had swarmed to his mellifluous
discourse."
Fuller was a member of the Convocation that assembled in 1640, to make new canons for the better
government of the church, and was one of the select
committee; but disapproved of some of the steps
taken by the Convocation. This, however, did not
arise from a want of zeal in his attachment to the
King's cause. Of this he gave abundant evidence by
his exertions, in public as well as in private, to serve
the royal interests. With this view, after the King
had left London with a determination to commence
hostilities against the Parliament, Fuller, on the anniversary of his M3ajesty's inauguration, preached a
sermon at Westminster Abbey from 2 Sam. xix. 30:
" Yea, let them take all, so that my Lord the King
return in peace." This sermon, which was printed, gave great offence to the Parliament party, and
brought the preacher into some danger. About this
time, 1642, he published his "Holy State," (folio,)
which passed rapidly through four editions. In the
year 1643, after finding that, to prevent being silenced
and ejected, as other royalists had been, he must take
an oath against which his conscience protested, he
withdrew to the King at Oxford, by whom he was
well received. His Majesty having been apprised
of his abilities as a preacher, expressed a desire to
hear him, and Fuller accordingly preached before
him at St. Mary's Church. On this occasion he incurred the censure of the royalists, for being, as they




10           LIFE AND WRITINGS
conceived, too lukewarm in their cause; whilst in
London, as we have seen, he exposed himself to the
resentment of the opposite party by his zeal for the
King's service. It has hence been fairly concluded
that he was an advocate for measures of conciliation,
which did not accord with the views of either party.
His own remark, on another occasion, may be applicable to this: "He is generally accounted an impartial arbitrator who displeases both sides." But when
he found that there were no hopes remaining of any
accommodation, he resolved to recover the opinion of
his steady attachment to the royal cause by following
the fortunes of the King's army. He accordingly
obtained a letter of recommendation to Sir Ralph
Hopton, who appointed him his chaplain.
Whilst discharging the duties of this office, he
omitted no opportunity that offered of pursuing his
studies and gathering materials for his historical
works. "Whilst he was in progress with the King's
army," says his biographer, "his business and study
there was a kind of errantry; having proposed to
himself a more exact collection of the Worthies of
England, in which others had waded before, but he
resolved to go through. In what place soever therefore he came, of remark especially, he spent most of
his time in views and researches of their antiquities
and church monuments; insinuating himself into the
acquaintance, which frequently ended in a lasting
friendship, of the learnedest and gravest persons residing within the place, thereby to inform himself fully
of those things he thought worthy the commendation
of his labors. It is an incredible thing to think what




OF TIIOJ[AS FULLER.            11
a numerous correspondence the Doctor maintained
and enjoyed by this means.  Nor did the good Doctor ever refuse to light his candle, in investigating
truth, firom  the mneanest person's discovery.  He
would endure contentedly an hour's or more impertinence from any aged chllurch-officer, or other superanimated people, fbr the gleaning of two lines to
his purpose.  And though his spirit was quick and
nimble, and all the faculties of' his mind ready and
answerable to that activity of dispatch. yet in these
inquests he would stay and attend those circular
rambles till they came to a point; so resolute was
he bent to the sifting out of abstruse antiquity.
Nor did he ever dismiss such adjutators or helpers,
as he pleased to style them, without giving them
money and cheerful thanlks besides."
After the loss of the battle onil Cheriton Down, in
1644, his general, now Lord Hopton, drew the remains of his army to Basing House, the seat of the
AMarquis of Worcester, where he left his chaplain;
who animated the garrison to so vigorous a defence
of that place when it was soon afterwards besieged
by Sir William Waller, that the latter was obliged
to abandon his enterprise, with the loss of more than
a thousand men.  When afterwards the King's army
was driven into Cornwall, FI1lleri hlad leave to retire to Exeter, where lhe resumed his studies, and
preached constantly with great satisfaction to the
citizens.  Whilst lie resided at Exeter, his company
and conversation were much courted by persons of
all ranks, and indeed, wherever he,was, the cheerfulness and facetiousness of his temper, added to his




12          LIFE AND WRITINGS
wit and learning, made him generally beloved. In
short, he was so engaging and had such a fruitful
faculty of begetting wit in others, when he exerted
it himself, that he made his associates pleased with
their own conversation as well as his; his blaze
kindled sparks in them, till they admired at their
own brightness; and when any melancholy hours
were to be filled up with merriment, it was said,
in the vein he could sometimes descend to, that
the Doctor made every one Fuller.  In 1645, he
published at Exeter his "Good Thoughts in Bad
Times." *
When Exeter was obliged to surrender to the Parliament forces under Sir Thomas Fairfax, in 1646,
Fuller was permitted, without any loss or interruption, to remove to London. Here he met with a cold
reception from his former parishioners at the Savoy,
probably on account of the part which he had taken
in politics; and found his lectureship filled by another
person. In 1650, he published "A Pisgah-Sight of
Palestine, and the Confines thereof, with the History of the Old and New Testament, acted thereon,"
(folio); in 1651, "Abel Redivivus, or the Dead yet
Speaking: the Lives and Deaths of the modern Divines," (4to); and in 1656," The Church History of
Britain from the Birth of Jesus Christ until the Year
1648 "; to which were subjoined, " The History of
the University of Cambridge since the Conquest,"
* In 1647, appeared his " Good Thoughts in Worse Times,"
and at the Restoration in 1660, " Mixt Contemplations in Better Times."  These three pieces were republished in a small
volume by William Pickering, London, 1830.




OF THOMAS FULLER.                13
and "The History of Waltham Abbey in Essex,
founded by King Harold," (folio). Bishop Nicolson,
in his "English Historical Library," observes of
Fuller's " Church History": "Through the whole he
is so full of his own wit, that he does not seem to
have minded what he was about. If a pretty story
comes in his way that affords scope for clinch and
droll, off it goes with all the gayety of the stage,
without staying to inquire whether it have any
foundation in truth or not; and even the most serious and most authentic parts of it are so interlaced
with pun and quibble, that it looks as if the man
had designed to ridicule the annals of our Church
into fable and romance. Yet if it were possible to
refine it well, the work would be of good use, since
there are in it some things of moment hardly to
be had elsewhere." *
In 1660, Fuller accompanied his patron, Lord
Berkley, to the Hague, to congratulate Charles II.
on his restoration to the throne. Soon afterwards
he was appointed chaplain to the King, created Doctor of Divinity at Cambridge, by mandamus, and
destined to the Episcopal bench. This last preferment, however, was prevented by his death, which
took place August 16, 1661, in the fifty-fourth year
of his age. The year after his death was published
his principal literary work, "The History of the
Worthies of England," (folio,) t a work valuable
* An elaborate vindication of Fuller from Nicolson's and
Heylin's attacks on his writings may be seen in the Biographia
Britannica.
t A new edition of " The Worthies " was published in London, 1811, in two volumes quarto, with a few explanatory notes)
by John Nichols.




14           LIFE AND WRITINGS
alike for the solid information it affords relative to
the provincial history of the country, and for the
profusion of biographical anecdote of men and manners; though Bishop Nicolson says, that "the lives
of his greatest heroes are commonly misshapen
scraps, mixed with tattle and lies." *
Dr. Fuller's person was tall and well-made; his
presence stately and majestic; and his manner frank
and unaffectedly polite. His disposition was amiable
and benevolent, and his conduct highly commendable
in his domestic and social relations.  We have already noticed the esteem in which he was held as an
instructive and entertaining companion. His learning and ingenuity were considerable, his imagination
lively, and his memory remarkably retentive.  "He
was a walking library," says his biographer, "but
sometimes required turning over to attain the contents."
Of the strength of Fuller's memory such marvellous stories are recorded as almost stagger credibility.
It is said that he could repeat five hundred strange
and unconnected words, after twice hearing them;
and could preach a sermon verbatim, which he had
heard only once. In passing to and fro, fioin Temple Bar to the farthest end of Cheapside, he once
undertook to mention all the signs over the shops,
as they stood in order, on both sides of the way,
repeating them either backwards or forwards; and
performed his task with perfect exactness. In the
Diary of Samuel Pepys, Esq., recently published,
the writer says: "Jan. 22, 1661. I met with Dr.
* See note on page 13.




OF THOMAS FULLER.              15
Thomas Fuller. He tells me of his last and great
book that is coming out: that is, the History of all
the Families in England; and could tell me more
of my own than I knew myself. And also to what
perfection he hath now brought the art of memory;
that he did lately to four eminently great scholars
dictate together in Latin upon different subjects of
their proposing, faster than they were able to write,
till they were tired; and that the best way of beginning a sentence, if a man should be out, and forget
his last sentence, (which he never was,) that then
his last refuge is to begin with an Utcunque."
The Doctor making a visit to the committee of
sequestrators sitting at Waltham, in Essex, they soon
fell into a discourse and commendation of his great
memory; to which he replied, "'Tis true, gentlemen,
that fame has given me the report of a memorist; and,
if you please, I will give you an experiment of it."
They all accepted the motion, and told him they
should look upon it as an obligation, praying him to
begin. " Gentlemen," says he, " I will give you an
instance of my memory in the particular business
in which you are employed. Your worships have
thought fit to sequester an honest but poor cavalier
parlson, my neighbor, from his living, and committed
him to prison. He has a large family of children,
and his circumstances are but indifferent. If you
will please to release him out of prison, and restore
him to his living, I will never forget the kindness
while I live." *
"But what was most strange and rare in him,"
* Basil Montagu's Selections, p. 316.




16           LIFE AND WRITINGS
says his biographer, " was his way of writing, which
was somewhat like the Chinese, from the top to the
bottom of the page. The manner thus: he would
write next the margin the first word of every line,
down to the foot of the paper; then beginning at the
head again, would so perfectly fill up every one of
the lines, as, without spaces, interlineations, or contractions, but with the full and equal length, would
so aptly connect and conjoin the ends and beginnings, that the sense would appear as complete and
as much to his mind, he would say, as if he had writ
it after the ordinary manner, in a continued series." *
The following delineation of Fuller's character as
a writer is extracted from the " Retrospective Review," Vol. III. p. 50: -
" If ever there was an amusing writer in this world,
the facetious Thomas Fuller was one. There was in
him a combination of those qualities which minister
to our entertainment, such as few have ever possessed
in an equal degree.  He was, first of all, a man of
extensive and multifarious reading; of great and
digested knowledge, which an extraordinary retentiveness of memory preserved ever ready for use,
and considerable accuracy of judgment enabled him
successfully to apply. He was also, if we may use
the term, a very great anecdote-monger; an indefatigable collector of the traditionary stories related
of eminent characters, to gather which, his biographers inform us, he would listen contentedly for
* Burnett's Specimens of the Old English Prose Writers, Vol
III. p. 172; and Biographia Britannica.




OF TfiOMIAS FULLER.             17
hours to the garrulity of the aged country-people
whom he encountered in his progresses with the
King's army. With such plenitude and diversity of
information, he had an inexhaustible fund for the
purposes of illustration, and this he knew well how
to turn to the best advantage. Unlike his tasteless
contemporaries, he did not bring forth or display
his erudition on unnecessary occasions, or pile extract on extract, and cento on cento, with industry
as misapplied as it was disgusting. With Fuller, a
quotation always tells: learning with him was considered as a sort of mortar to strengthen, interlace,
and support his own intellectual speculations, to
fill up the interstices of argument, and conjoin and
knit together the corresponding masses of thought;
not as a sort of plaster to be superinduced over the
original products of his mind, till their character and
peculiarities were lost amid the integuments which
enveloped them. So well does he vary his treasures
of memory and observation, so judiciously does he
interweave his anecdotes, quotations, and remarks,
that it is impossible to conceive a more delightful
checker-work of acute thought and apposite illustration, of original and extracted sentiment, than is presented in his works. As a story-teller, he was most
consummately felicitous. The relation which we
have seen for the hundredth time, when introduced
in his productions, assumes all the freshness of novelty, and comes out of his hands instinct with fresh
life, and glowing with vitality and spirit. The stalest
jest, the most hackneyed circumstance, the repetition
of which by another would only provoke our nausea,
2




18           LIFE AND WRITINGS
when adopted by him, receives a redintegration of
essence not less miraculous than the conversion of
dry bones into living beings. Wherever we dip in
his works, we are certain to meet with some narrated incident or apothegm to detain us, and we are
insensibly led on from anecdote to anecdote, and
from witticism to witticism, without the power to
put the book upon the shelf again. How delightful must have been the conversation of Fuller,
varied as it was with exuberance of knowledge,
enlivened with gossiping, chastened by good sense,
and sparkling with epigrammatical sharpness of wit,
decorated with all its native fantastical embroidery
of humorous quaintness. We verily declare for ourselves, that, if we had the power of resuscitating an
individual from the dead to enjoy the pleasure of
his conversation, we do not know any one on whom
our choice would sooner fall than Fuller.
" Of' human life and manners, through all their
varieties,'he was also a most sagacious and acute
observer; and the quantity of vigorous and just
observation, in this department of inquiry alone,
contained in his works, it is hardly possible to calculate with correctness or appreciate with justice.
He united the cool penetration of the philosophical
speculatist with the less erring because less refined
contemplation of the practical experimentalist in
the ways of man. He was learned, yet his learning did not take away his perspicuity in judging of
the modes of every-day existence; he was indefatigable in literature, yet amidst his pursuits he
found leisure to look into life with the acuteness of




OF THOMAS FULLER.               19
a Rochefoucault; he was addicted to meditation,
yet he never was blinded to the observation of
things without while occupied with the abstractions within. More profundity of remark, more accuracy of discernment, more justness of perception,
than this topic always produces from his pen, it
would be difficult elsewhere to find. Few scholars
excelled more in sound and practical good sense,
and consequently very few ever coined maxims of
more irresistible and incontrovertible wisdom. To
him the whole complete machinery, which composes
the great work of existence, in all its parts, springs,
and dependencies, lay exposed, and no subtlety in
its regulations could deceive his intuitive quickness,
no artificial intermingling of its interest could obscure his unerring penetration.' But great as all these his endowments were, his
qualifications of authorship, it is not perhaps to any
of them that our chief satisfaction in reading the
works of Fuller can justly be attributed. Others,
many others, have doubtless possessed them in an
equal if not in a superior degree, and the attractions
of our author carry a peculiar individuality about
them which no other can share or divide with him.
These particular attractions which he alone monopolized, are doubtless the results of his unrivalled
facetiousness and quaintness.  The praises of wisdom and learning he must ever divide with countless multitudes, and in the pages of multitudes of
writers may equal proofs of that learning and wisdom be met with.  But for the facetiousness which
breaks forth on all themes and subjects, and which




20           LIFE AND TWRI TINGS
hides itself but to burst forth again, like the river
Arethusa, in all the creamy effervescence of sparkling frothiness, - which throws over his gravest disquisitions an air of irresistible jocularity, and over
his most solemn adjurations an appearance of lurking and irrepressible slyness, - which diffuses over
the obscure duskiness of church history a quaint
oiliness of conceit, and enriches even geographical
barrenness by its everlasting fecundity of wit;for the hearty and chuckling fulness of mirth which
catches at a joke as a boy does at a butterfly, and
impresses every possible play of words of necessity
into its service;- for the sedulous and resolute
quest after humor which no consideration could
divert or stop, and which would at any time spoil
a good argument, or burlesque a serious observation, to hitch in an epigram, good, bad, or indifferent,
-where shall we search but in the pages of the
inimitable, the incomparable Fuller? It is not because he is generally successful in his attempts to
be witty that we experience this gratification and
delight, for nine of his attempts out of ten are certain to be complete failures; nor can it arise from
the trueness of his wit, for commonly it consists of
little more than puns, quibbles, and antitheses: it is
not certainly from these, but from other causes that
our satisfaction originates, from his glorious and
enthusiastic intrepidity in his sallies to the land of
humor, from his bold and determined Quixotism
after wit and facetiousness, from his readiness to
grasp at anything which bore the most distant resemblance to them, from his buoyant and eternal




OF THOJ.L4S FULLER.             21
spirit of drollery, from his indefatigable and adventurous knight-errantry which would traverse the
whole universe for wit, from his peculiar singleness
of observation, which could see' Humor in stones, and puns in everything.'
"He absolutely communicates something of his own
fervor to his reader: it is almost impossible to read
his works without going along with him in his hunt
for jokes, and without participating in his satisfaction
when he has found them. His quaint facetiousness
was communicable to everything. Graft it on whatever tree he chose, and it would bud out, blossom
forth, and luxuriate. Like a fisherman, he threw
out his capacious net into the ocean of wit, and rejected nothing that it brought up, however miscellaneous or motley were its contents; pleased, and perhaps thinking that others would be pleased, with
their variety. There is, besides, such an apparent
self-satisfaction discernible throughout his works -
we can almost fancy we see him chuckling over his
forthcoming jests as they successively issue from his
brain, preparing us by his triumphant exultation for
the stroke which is to follow; or revelling in uncontrolled and uncontrollable merriment over the vagaries of which he had discharged his head by communicating them to paper. Such was the disposition
of Fuller. The qualities of mind which would in
another have produced a buffoon, in him, without
losing their power of entertainment, lost all their
grosser and more offensive traits, and became, from
their very superfetation, less imbued with the rankness of farce. To him the language of jocularity




22           LIFE AND  WRITINGS
had something of the gravity of earnest: it was his
own vernacular idiom, in which everything which
issued from his mind was clothed; it was something
so intimately connected with him, that all attempts
to strip it off would be useless; something settled
and fixed in his intellect, and stamping and marking
its whole character. By being therefore more generalized, it had less of marked purport and design,
and as it was assumed on all subjects was indecorous
on none. Fuller, we think, would hardly have
scrupled to crack a joke upon the four Evangelists;
but certain we are, it would have been without any
idea of indecency or intention of irreverence.
"This characteristic peculiarity is equally visible
in all his productions, from his' Holy War' to his'Worthies,' and consequently they are all almost
equally entertaining. His' Holy War' and' Church
History,' particularly the last, are two of the most
agreeable works we know; replete, besides their
Fullerism, with perspicacious observation, profound
thought, deep discernment, and narrative power.
There are specimens of historical painting in these
works which perhaps have never been excelled, conceived with great energy and executed with happiness. In his delineation of characters, he exhibits
such unrivalled acumen, ability, and penetration,
together with such candor and uprightness of judgment, that it is difficult which most to admire, his
sagacity or his sincerity.  His' Pisgah-Sight of
Palestine,' which is also in part an historical work,
is a happy elucidation of what Fuller always excelled in, sacred story: and no work of his better




OF THOMAS FULLER.             23
displays the riches of his mind or the plenitude anld
fertility of its images.  His'Worthies' is, we
believe, more generally perused than any of his
productions, and is perhaps the most agreeable;
suffice to say of it, that it is a most fascinating storehouse of gossiping, anecdote, and quaintness; a
most delightful medley of interchanged amusement,
presenting entertainment as varied as it is inexhaustible.  His'Good Thoughts in Bad Times,'
and lesser works, are all equally excellent in their
way, full of admirable maxims and reflections, agreeable stories, and ingenious moralizations.
" It was, however, in biography that Fuller most
excelled. If he was frequently too careless and inaccurate in his facts, it was not from heedlessness as
to truth, which no one reverenced more than he did,
but because he considered them but as the rind and
outward covering of the more important and more
delicious stores of thinking and consideration which
they inwardly contained; because he thought life
too short to be frittered away in fixing dates and
examining registers: what he sought was matter
convertible to use, to the great work of the improvement of the human mind, not those more minute
and jejune creatures of authenticity, which fools toil
in seeking after, and madmen die in elucidating. In
this he has been followed by a great biographical
writer of the last age, with whom he had more
points than one in common. Leaving therefore such
minor parts of biography for the investigation of
others, and seizing only on the principal events, and
those distinguishing incidents or anecdotes which




24           LIFE AND WRITINGS
mark a character in a moment, and which no one
knew better than Fuller to pick out and select, he
detailed them with such perspicuity and precision,
and commented upon them with such accuracy of
discrimination, strength of argument, and force of
reason, and threw around them such a luminous and
lambent halo of sparkling quaintness, shining upon
and playing about the matter of his thoughts, and
inspirited them with such omnipresent jocularity and
humor, that, of all the biographical writers of his
age, he is, in our opinion, infinitely the best. After
the perusal of the more polished, but certainly not
more agreeable biographers of modern times, we
always recur with renewed gusto and avidity to the
Lives of our excellent author, as to a feast more
substantial, without being less delicious.
" The work which we have selected as the subject
of this review is as well calculated to evince the
justice of the foregoing remarks as any of his lucubrations. Perhaps, upon the whole, it is the best
of his works; and certainly displays, to better advantage than any, his original and vigorous powers
of thinking. It consists of two parts - the' Holy
and the Profane State': the former proposing examples for imitation; and the latter their opposites,
for our abhorrence. Each contains characters of
individuals in every department of life, as'the
father,''husband,''soldier,' and' divine'; lives of
eminent persons, as illustrative of these characters;
and general essays. In his conception of character
he has followed Bishop Earle and Sir Thomas Overbury, but his manner of writing is essentially differ



OF THOMAS FULLER.              25
ent.  This species of composition was very near
akin to what has been called the school of metaphysical poetry, sprung up into existence about the
same time, and went out of fashion along with it.
It was composed of the same materials, and regulated by nearly the same principles. Did our limits
allow us, we do not know a more interesting and
yet undeveloped subject for speculation than the
concurrent and dependent styles of prose and poetry
which prevailed from the accession of James I. till
after the Restoration, and which were in truth all
referable to one original. At present we can only
observe that the care of the writers of characters
was to crowd together the most motley assemblage
of ideas in the smallest possible space; to concentrate, in one series of links, the most multitudinous
spangles of conceit; to pour forth all the subject
presented in one close intertexture of ideas, which
received at once point from their wit, and smartness
from their brevity. By these means the thoughts
are often so much compressed as to produce obscurity, or at least are defrauded of their due quantum
of verbal clothing. Their very multitude produces
confusion, and we are prevented from taking notice
of each particularly by their cluster and conglomeration, and by the rapidity with which they alternately approach and recede.  Thought succeeds
thought; the most recondite metaphors are squeezed
into an epithet or an adjective; one point is elbowed
out by another,' like pricks upon the fretful porcupine,' till in mental dizziness and distraction we are
obliged to bring our perusal of the book to an end.




26           LIFE AND  WRITINGS
Of this method of writing, Butler's "Hudibras" is
an enlarged specimen, - that ever-standing monument of the lavish prodigality of wit.
" It may at first appear rather surprising that Fuller, fond as he was of pointed quaintness, and with
such exuberance of images as he was possessed of,
should have deserted this popular style of characterwriting, and introduced in the stead of its curt and
contracted sharpness his own more easy, but less
ambitious, diffuseness.  But this, we think, may
easily be accounted for. His intellectual plenitude
was too great to submit to the tight braces and
bandages of composition; and he had, besides, too
much of the gossip about him to be untinctured
with the usual appurtenance of the gossip, prolixity.
He was also too wise to turn or torture his natural
flow of mind into a new fashion, or to apply to it
any such Chinese methods of artificial restraint.
Thus his characters are written with an expository
diffuseness, and seem sometimes rather a commentary upon characters of the foregoing description
than others of the same species. If they do not exhibit the same perpetual display of wit and coacervation of metaphor, they have much more easiness
and variety, and much less stiffness and strained
obscurity. They have just as much point as is necessary to render them striking, and just as much
force of expression as is necessary to energize their
diffuseness. They flow on enriched with many an
interesting story, and many a profound reflection.
Few will, we think, refuse to consider Fuller's
method as the most judicious and agreeable, as his




OF THOMMAS FULLER.             27
thoughts swell out to their full and healthy growth;
and his illustrations receive their due modicum of
relation, without being obscured by their density, or
rendered rickety by their compression.
"We must now conclude our remarks on this
book; and we do, in fine, most seriously recommend
it to our readers, as a treasure of good sense, information, and entertainment. It is only by contrasting
the works of Fuller with the lumbering and heavy
productions of his contemporaries that we can properly estimate the value of the former, or give due
honor to the memory of one who, in his most
arduous and sterile undertakings, in the darkness of
antiquities or the cloudy atmosphere of polemical
divinity, never lost the vivifying spirit of his humor
or the exhilarating play of his wit, or suffered his
keenness of observation to be blunted by the blocks
it had to work on. To him every subject was alike:
if it was a dull one, he could enliven it; if it was
an agreeable one, he could improve it; if it was a
deep one, he could sound it; if it was a tough one,
he could grapple with it. In him learning was but
subsidiary to wit, and wit but secondary to wisdom;
and, if' his quaintness of humor gave something of
the grotesque to his productions, it but added to the
gloss of the admirable matter which it shone on.
To him and to his pages may we always come,
secure of entertainment and instruction, - of finding
an agreeable olio of humorous wit and diverting
sense which reciprocally relieve and play upon each
other, the latter sobering and steadying the former,
the former barbing and pointing the latter. In




28    LIFE AND  WRITINGS OF FULLER.
short, his works are an inexhaustible fund of sound
and solid thought,- a quarry, or rather mine, of
good old English heartiness, where the lighter and
less elaborate artificers of modern times may seek,
and seek fearlessly, for materials for their own more
fragile and graceful structures.
" Of Fuller himself we can only observe, that
his life was meritoriously passed, and exemplary
throughout; that his opinions were independently
adopted and unshrinkingly maintained. In the darkest and gloomiest period of our national history he had
the sense and the wisdom to pursue the right way,
and to persevere in an even tenor of moderation, as
remote from interested lukewarmness as it was from
mean-spirited fear. Unwilling to go all lengths with
either party, he was of consequence vilified by both:
willing to unite the maintainers of opposite and conflicting sentiments, he only united them against
himself. Secure in the strength of his intellectual
riches, the storms and. hurricanes which uprooted
the fabric of the constitution had only the effect of
confining him more to his own resources, and of inciting him to the production of those numerous
treatises and compilations for which he received
from his contemporaries respect and reputation, and
for which posterity will render him its tribute of
unfailing gratitude."




TIlE HOLY STATE.








PREFACE.
TO THE READER.
WHO is not sensible with sorrow of the distractions of this age?  To write books therefore
may seein unseasonable, especially in a time wherein
the press, like an unruly horse, hath cast off his
bridle of being licensed, and some serious books,
which dare fly abroad, are hooted at by a flock of
pamphlets.
But be pleased to know that when I left my
home it was fair weather, and my journey was half
past before I discovered the tempest, and had gone
so far in this work that I could neither go backward with credit nor forward with comfort.
As for the matter of this book, therein I am resident on my profession; holiness in the latitude
thereof falling under the cognizance of a divine.
For curious method, expect none, - essays for the
most part not being placed as at a feast, but placing
themselves as at an ordinary.
The characters I have conformed to the then
standing laws of the realm. A twelvemonth ago
were they sent to the press, since which time the
wisdom of the King and State hath thought fitting
to alter many things, and I expect the discretion of




32                 PREFA CE.
the reader should make his alterations accordingly.
And I conjure thee by all christian ingenuity, that,
if lighting here on some passages rather harshsounding than ill-intended, to construe the same by
the general drift and main scope which is aimed at.
Nor let it render the modesty of this book suspected, because it presumes to appear in company
unmanned by any patron. If right, it will defend
itself; if wrong, none can defend it. Truth needs
not, falsehood deserves not, a supporter. And indeed the matter of this work is too high for a
subject's, the workmanship thereof too low for a
prince's patronage.
And now I will turn my pen into prayer that God
would be pleased to discloud these gloomy days with
the beams of his mercy: which if I may be so
happy as to see, it will then encourage me to count
it freedom to serve two apprenticeships, - God spinning out the thick thread of my life so long, in writing the Ecclesiastical History from Christ's time to
our days, if I shall from remoter parts be so planted
as to enjoy the benefit of walking and standing
libraries, without which advantages the best vigilance doth but vainly dream to undertake such a
task.
Meantime I will stop the leakage of my soul, and
what heretofore hath run out in writing shall hereafter (God willing) be improved in constant preaching, in what place soever God's providence, and
friends' good will, shall fix
Thine, in all christian offices,
THOMAS FULLER.




THE HOLY STATE.
THE GOOD WIFE.
ST. PAUL to the Colossians, iii. 18, first
adviseth women to submit themselves to
their husbands, and then counselleth men to
love their wives. And sure it was fitting that
women should first have their lesson given
them, because it is hardest to be learned, and
therefore they need have the more time to con
it. For the same reason, we first begin with
the character of a good wife.
She commandeth her husband, in any equal
matter, by constant obeying him. It was always observed that what the English gained
of the French in battle by valor, the French
regained of the English by cunning in treaties:
so, if the husband should chance by his power,
in his passion, to prejudice his wife's right, she
wisely knoweth, by compounding and complying, to recover and rectify it again.
She never crosseth her husband in the spring3




34           THEE  HOLY STATE.
tide of his anger, but stays till it be ebbingwater. And then mildly she argues the matter,
not so much to condemn him as to acquit herself. Surely, men, contrary to iron, are worse
to be wrought upon when they are hot, and
are far more tractable in cold blood. It is an
observation of seamen, that, if a single meteor or
fireball falls on their mast, it portends ill-luck;
but if two come together (which they count
Castor and Pollux) they presage good success:
but, sure, in a family it bodeth most bad when
two fireballs (husband's and wife's anger) come
both together.
She keeps home, if she hath not her husband's company or leave for her patent to go
abroad: for the house is the woman's centre.
It is written, Psalm civ. 2: " The sun ariseth,
man goeth forth unto his work, and to his labor
until the evening "; but it is said of the good
woman, Prov. xxxi. 15: " She riseth while it
is yet night "; for man in the race of his work
starts from the rising of the sun, because his
business is without doors, and not to be done
without the light of heaven; but the woman
hath her work within the house, and therefore
can make the sun rise by lighting of a candle.
Her clothes are rather comely than costly,
and she makes plain cloth to be velvet by her
handsome wearing it.  She is none of our
dainty dames, who love to appear in variety




THE G OOD WIFE.            35
of suits every day new, - as if a good gown,
like a stratagem in war, were to be used but
once; but our good wife sets up a sail according to the keel of her husband's estate; and if
of high parentage, she doth not so remember
what she was by birth that she forgets what
she is by match.
Arcana imperil (her husband's secrets) she
will not divulge. Especially she is careful to
conceal his infirmities. If he be none of the
wisest, she so orders it that he appears on the
public stage but seldom; and then he hath
conned his part so well, that he comes off with
great applause.  If his forma informans be
but bad, she provides him better formas assistentes, gets him wise servants and secretaries.
In her husband's absence, she is wife and
deputy husband, which makes her double the
files of her diligence.  At his return he finds
all things so well that he wonders to see himself at home when he was abroad.
In her husband's sickness, she feels more
grief than she shows.  Partly that she may
not dishearten him, and partly because she is
not at leisure to seem so sorrowful that she
may be the more serviceable.
Her children, though many in number, are
none in noise, steering them with a look whither
she listeth.  When they grow up, she teacheth




36          TTIE HOLY STATE.
them, not pride, but painfulness, making their
hands to clothe their backs, and them to wear
the livery of their own industry. She makes
not her daughters gentlewomen before they be
women, rather teaching them what they should
pay to others than receive from them.
The heaviest work of her servants she
maketh light, by orderly and seasonably enjoining it; wherefore her service is counted a preferment, and her teaching better than her
wages. Her maids follow the precedent of
their mistress, — live modestly at home. One
asked a grave gentlewoman how her maids
came by so good husbands, and yet seldom
went abroad: " Oh," said she, "good husbands
come home to them."
THE GOOD HUSBAND.
HAVING formerly described a good wife,
she will make a good husband, whose character we are now to present.
His love to his wife weakeneth not his ruling
her, and his ruling lesseneth not his loving her.
Wherefore he avoideth all fondness (a sick
love, to be praised in none, and pardoned only
in the newly married), whereby more have
wilfully betrayed their command than ever lost




THE~ GOOD HUSBAND.           37
it by their wives' rebellion.  Methinks the heviper is right enough served, which, as Pliny
reports, puts his head into the she-viper's mouth
and she bites it off. And what wonder is it if
women take the rule to themselves, which their
uxorious husbands first surrender unto them?
He is constant to his wife, and confident of
her. And, sure, where jealousy is the jailor,
many break the prison, it opening more ways
to wickedness than it stoppeth; so that where
it findeth one it maketh ten dishonest.
He alloweth her meet maintenance, but measures it by his own estate: nor will he give less,
nor can she ask more.  Which allowance, if
shorter than her deserts and his desire, he
lengtheneth it out with his courteous carriage
unto her; chiefly in her sickness, then not so
much word-pitying her as providing necessaries
for her.
That she may not intrench on his prerogative, he maintains her propriety in feminine
affairs: yea, therein he follows her advice; for
the soul of a man is planted so high that he
overshoots such low matters as lie level to a
woman's eye, and therefore her counsel therein
may better hit the mark. Causes that are
properly of feminine cognizance he suffers her
finally to decide; not so much as permitting an
appeal to himself, that their jurisdictions may
not interfere. He will not countenance a stub



38           THE HOLY STATE.
born servant against her, but in her maintains
his own authority. Such husbands as bait the
mistress with her maids, and clap their hands
at the sport, will have cause to wring them
afterwards.
Knowing she is the weaker vessel, he bears
with her infirmities. All hard using of her he
detests, desiring therein to do, not what may be
lawful but fitting. And grant her to be of a
servile nature, such as may be bettered by
beating; yet he remembers he hath enfranchised her by marrying her. On her weddingday she was, like St. Paul, free born, and privileged from any servile punishment.
He is careful that the wounds betwixt them
take not air, and be not publicly known.  Jars
concealed are half reconciled; which, if generally known, it is a double task to stop the
breach at home and men's mouths abroad.
To this end he never publicly reproves her.
An open reproof puts her to do penance before
all that are present, after which many rather
study revenge than reformation.
He keeps her in the wholesome ignorance of
unnecessary secrets. They will not be starved
with the ignorance, who perchance may surfeit
with the knowledge of weighty counsels, too
heavy for the weaker sex to bear. He knows
little who will tell his wife all he knows.
HIe beats not his wife after his death. One




THE GOOD PARENT.          39
having a shrewd wife, yet loath to use her hardly
in his lifetime, awed her with telling her that
he would beat her when he was dead, meaning
that he would leavd her no maintenance. This
humor is unworthy a worthy man, who will endeavor to provide her a competent estate; yet
he that impoverisheth his children to enrich his
widow, destroys a quick hedge to make a dead
one.
THE GOOD PARENT.
IfE beginneth his care for his children at
their birth, giving them to God to be, if
not (as Hannah did) his chaplains, at least his
servants. This care he continueth till the day
of his death, in their infancy, youth, and man's
estate. In all which,
He showeth them in his own practice what
to follow and imitate; and in others', what to
shun and avoid. For though "the words of
the wise be as nails fastened by the masters of
the assemblies," yet sure their examples are the
hammer to drive them in, to take the deeper
hold. A father that whipped his son for swearing, and swore himself whilst he whipped him,
did more harm by his example than good by his
correction.
He doth not welcome aid embrace the first




40           THE HOLY STATE.
essays of sin in his children.  Weeds are
counted herbs in the beginning of the spring;
nettles are put in pottage, and salads are made
of elder-buds. Thus fond fathers like the oaths
and wanton talk of their little children, and
please themselves to hear them displease God.
But our wise parent both instructs his children
in piety, and with correction blasts the first
buds of profaneness in them. He that will not
use the rod on his child, his child shall be used
as a rod on him.
He observeth gavel-kind in dividing his
affections, though not his estate, giving each
child a part. He loves them (though leaves
them not) all alike. Like a well-drawn picture, he eyes all his children alike (if there be
a parity of deserts), not parching one to drown
another. Did not that mother show little wit
in her great partiality, to whom, when her neglected son complained that his brother (her
darling) had hit and hurt him with a stone,
whipped him only for standing in the way
where the stone went which his brother cast?
This partiality is tyranny, when parents despise
those that are deformed, —enough to break
them whom God had bowed before.
He allows his children maintenance according to their quality; otherwise it will make
them base, acquaint them with bad company
and sharking tricks; and it makes them surfeit




THE GOOD PARENT.            41
the sooner when they come to their estates. It
is observed of camels, that, having travelled
long without water through sandy deserts, implentur cum bibendi est occasio et in prceteriturn
et in futurum; and so these thirsty heirs soak
it when they come to their means, who, whilst
their fathers were living, might not touch the
top of his money, and think they shall never
feel the bottom of it when they are dead.
In choosing a profession, he is directed by
his child's disposition; whose inclination is the
strongest indenture to bind him to a trade.
But when they set Abel to till the ground, and
send Cain to keep sheep; Jacob to hunt, and
Esau to live in tents; drive some to school, and
others from it; they do violence to nature, and
it will thrive accordingly.  Yet he humors not
his child when he makes an unworthy choice
beneath himself, or rather for ease than use,
pleasure than profit.
If his son prove wild, he doth not cast him
off so far but he marks the place where he
lights. With the mother of Moses, he doth
not suffer his son so to sink or swim, but he
leaves one to stand afar off to watch what will
become of him.  He is careful whilst he
quencheth his luxury, not withal to put out his
life. The rather, because their souls, who have
broken and run out in their youth, have proved
the more healthful for it afterwards.




42           THE HOLY STA TE.
He moves him to marriage rather by argument drawn from his good than his own authority.  It is a style too princely for a parent
herein to will and command, but sure he may
will and desire. Affections, like the conscience,
are rather to be led than drawn.
He doth not give away his loaf to his children, and then come to them for a piece of bread.
He holds the reins (though loosely) in his own
hands, and keeps to reward duty and punish
undutifulness; yet on good occasion, for his
children's advancement, he will depart from
part of his means. Base is their nature who
will not have their branches lopped, till their
body be felled, and will let go none of their
goods as if it presaged their speedy death;
whereas it doth not follow that he that puts off
his cloak must presently go to bed.
On his death-bed he bequeaths his blessing
to all his children; nor rejoiceth he so much to
leave them great portions as honestly obtained.
Only money well and lawfully gotten is good
and lawful money. And if he leaves his children young, he principally nominates God to be
their guardian, and next him is careful to appoint provident overseers.




TEE G OOD CHILD.          43
THE GOOD CHILD.
JE reverenceth the person of his parent,
though old, poor, and froward. As his
parent bare with him when a child, he bears
with his parent if twice a child; nor doth his
dignity above him cancel his duty under him.
When Sir Thomas More was Lord Chancellor
of England, and Sir John his father one of the
Judges of the King's Bench, he would in
Westminster Hall beg his blessing of him on
his knees.
He observes his lawful commands, and practiseth his precepts with all obedience. I cannot
therefore excuse St. Barbara from undutifulness, and occasioning her own death. The
matter this. Her father, being a Pagan, commanded his workmen building his house to
make two windows in a room; Barbara, knowing her father's pleasure, in his absence enjoined them to make three, that seeing them
she might the better contemplate the mystery
of the holy trinity. (Methinks two windows
might as well have raised her meditations, and
the light arising from both would as properly
have minded her of the Holy Spirit proceeding
from the Father and the Son.)  Her father,
enraged at his return, thus came to the knowl



44           THE HOLY STATE.
edge of her religion, and accused her to the
magistrate, which cost her her life.
Having practised them himself, he entails his
parent's precepts on his posterity.  Therefore
such instructions are by Solomon, Proverbs i. 9,
compared to frontlets and chains (not to a suit
of clothes, which serves but one, and quickly
wears out, or out of fashion), which have in
them a real lasting worth, and are bequeathed
as legacies to another age. The same counsels
observed, are chains to grace, which, neglected,
prove halters to strangle undutiful children.
He is patient under correction, and thankful
after it.  When Mr. West, formerly Tutor
(such I count in loco parentis) to Dr. Whitaker, was by him, then  Regius Professor,
created Doctor, Whitaker solemnly gave him
thanks before the University for giving him
correction when his young scholar.
In marriage, he first and last consults with
his father; when propounded, when concluded.
ie best bowls at the mark of his own contentment, who, besides the aim of his own eye,
is directed by his father, who is to give him the
ground.
He is a stork to his parent, and feeds him in
his old age: not only if his father hath been a
pelican, but though he hath been an ostrich
unto him, and neglected him in his youth. Ite
confines him not a long way off to a short pen



THE G OOD CHILD.           45
sion, forfeited if he comes into his presence;
but shows piety at home, and learns (as St.
Paul saith, 1 Timothy v. 4) to requite his
parent. And yet the debt (I mean only the
principal, not counting the interest) cannot
fully be paid, and therefore he compounds with
his father to accept in good worth the utmost
of his endeavor.
Such a child God commonly rewards with
long life in this world.  If he chance to die
young, yet he lives long that lives well; and
time misspent is not lived but lost. Besides,
God is better than his promise, if he takes from
him a long lease, and gives him a freehold of
better value. As for disobedient children,
If preserved from the gallows, they are reserved for the rack, to be tortured by their own
posterity. One complained that never father
had so undutiful a child as he had.  " Yes,"
said his son, with less grace than truth, " my
grandfather had."
I conclude this subject with the example of a
Pagan's son, which will shame most Christians.
Pomponius Atticus, making the funeral oration
at the death of his mother, did protest that living with her threescore and seven years, he
was never reconciled unto her, se nunquam
catm matre in gratiam rediisse: because (take
the comment with the text) there never happened betwixt them the least jar which needed
reconciliation.




46           THE HOLY STATE.
THE GOOD  MASTER.
HE is the heart in the midst of his household, primurn vivens et ultimumr  moriens,
first up and last abed, if not in his person yet
in his providence. In his carriage he aimetlh
at his own and his servants' good, and to
advance both.
He oversees the works of his servants. One
said that the dust that fell from the master's
shoes was the best compost to manure ground.
The lion out of state will not run whilst any
one looks upon him; but some servants out of
slothfulness will not run except some do look
upon them, spurred on with their master's eye.
Chiefly he is careful exactly to take his servants' reckonings. If their master takes no
account of them, they will make small account
of him, and care not what they spend who
are never brought to an audit.
He provides them victuals, wholesome, sufficient, and seasonable. He doth not so allay
his servants' bread to debase it so much as to
make that servants' meat which is not man's
meat. He alloweth them also convenient rest
and recreation; whereas some masters, like a
bad conscience, will not suffer them to sleep
that have them. He remembers the old law
of the Saxon King Ina, " If a villain work on




THE GOOD MASTER.            47
Sunday by his lord's command, he shall be
free."
The wages he contracts for, he duly and
truly pays to his servants.  The same word in
the Greek, Lds, signifies rust and poison: and
some strong poison is made of the rust of
metals, but none more venomous than the rust
of money in the rich man's purse, unjustly
detained from the laborer, which will poison
and infect his whole estate.
He never threatens his servant, but rather
presently corrects him.  Indeed, conditional
threatenings with promise of pardon on amendment, are good and useful. Absolute threatenings torment more, reform less, making servants
keep their faults, and forsake their masters:
wherefore herein he never passeth his word,
but makes present payment, lest the creditor
run away from the debtor.
In correcting his servant, he becomes not a
slave to his own passion. No. cruelly making
new indentures of the flesh  " his apprentice.
To this end he never beats him in the height
of his passion. Moses being to fetch water out
of the rock, and commanded by God only to
speak to it with his rod in his hand, being
transported with anger, smote it thrice.  Thus
some masters, which might fetch penitent tears
from their servants with a chiding word (only
shaking the rod withal for terror), in their fury




48           TIIE HOLY STATE.
strike many blows which might better be spared.
If he perceives his servant incorrigible, so that
he cannot wash the blackamoor, he washeth his
hands of him, and fairly puts him away.
He is tender of his servant in his sickness
and age. If crippled in his service, his house
is his hospital: yet how many throw away
those dry bones out of the which themselves
have sucked the marrow? It is as usual to see
a young serving-man an old beggar, as to see a
light-horse first from the great saddle of a nobleman to come to the hackney-coach, and at last
die in drawing a car. But the good master is
not like the cruel hunter in the fable, who beat
his old dog because his toothless mouth let go
the game; he rather imitates the noble nature
of our Prince Henry, who took order for the
keeping of an old English mastiff which had
made a lion run away. Good reason good
service in age should be rewarded. Who can
without pity and pleasure behold that trusty
vessel which carried Sir Francis Drake about
the world?
Hitherto our discourse hath proceeded of the
carriage of masters towards free covenant servants, not intermeddling with their behavior
towards slaves and vassals, whereof we only
report this passage: When Charles the Fifth
Emperor returning with his fleet from Algiers
was extremely beaten with a tempest, and their




THE GOOD SERVANT.           49
ships overloaden, he caused them to cast their
best horses into the sea to save the life of many
slaves, which according to the market-price
was not so much worth. Are there not many
that in such a case had rather save Jack the
horse than Jocky the keeper? And well may
masters consider how easy a transposition it
had been for God, to have made him to mount
into the saddle that holds the stirrup; and him
to sit down at the table, who stands by with a
trencher.
THE GOOD SERVANT.
HE is one that out of conscience serves God
in his master, and so hath the principle of
obedience in himself. As for those servants
who found their obedience on some external
thing, with engines, they will go no longer
than they are wound, or weighed up.
He doth not dispute his master's lawful will,
but doeth it. Hence it is that simple servants
(understand such whose capacity is bare measure, without surplusage, equal to the business
he is used in) are more useful, because more
manageable, than abler men, especially in matters wherein not their brains but hands are
required. Yet if his master, out of want of
experience, enjoins him to do what is hurtful,
4




50           THE HOLY STATE.
and prejudicial to his own estate, duty herein
makes him undutiful (if not to deny, to demur
in his performance), and choosing rather to
displease than hurt his master, he humbly represents his reasons to the contrary.
He loves to go about his business with cheerfilness.  One said, "he loved to hear his
carter though not his cart to sing."   God
loveth a cheerful giver; and Christ reproved
the Pharisees for disfiguring their faces with
a sad countenance. Fools! who, to persuade
men that angels lodged in their hearts, hung
out a devil for a sign in their faces. Sure
cheerfulness in doing renders a deed more acceptable. Not like those servants, who doing
their work unwillingly, their looks do enter a
protestation against what their hands are doing.
He dispatcheth his business with quickness
and expedition.  Hence the same English
word, speed, signifies celerity, and success; the
former in business of execution causing the
latter. Indeed, haste and rashness are storms
and tempests, breaking and wrecking business;
but nimbleness is a fair full wind, blowing it
with speed to the haven.  As he is good at
hand, so is he good at length, continually and
constantly careful in his service.  Many servants, as if they had learned the nature of the
besoms they use, are good for a few days, and
afterwards grow unserviceable.




THE GOOD SERVANT.            51
He disposeth not of his master's goods without his privity or consent: no, not in the smallest matters. Open this wicket and it will be
in vain for masters to shut the door.  If servants presume to dispose small things without
their master's allowance (besides that many
little leaks may sink a ship), this will widen
their consciences to give away greater. But
though he hath not always a particular leave,
he hath a general grant, and a warrant dormant from his master to give an alms to the
poor in his absence, if in absolute necessity.
His answers to his master are true, direct,
and dutiful. If a dumb devil possesseth a servant, a winding cane is the fittest circle, and
the master the exorcist to drive it out. Some
servants are so talkative, one may as well command the echo as them not to speak last; and
then they count themselves conquerors, because
last they leave the field. Others, though they
seem to yield and go away, yet, with the flying
Parthians, shoot backward over their shoulders,
and dart bitter taunts at their masters; yea.
though with the clock they have given the last
stroke, yet they keep a jarring, muttering to
themselves a good while after.
Just correction he bears patiently, and unjust
he takes cheerfully; knowing that stripes unjustly given more hurt the master than the
man: and the logic maxim is verified, Agens




52          THE HOLY STATE.
agendo repatitur, the smart most lights on the
striker. Chiefly he disdains the baseness of
running away.
Because charity is so cold, his industry is the
hotter to provide something for himself, whereby
he may be maintained in his old age. If under
his master he trades for himself (as an apprentice may do, if he hath covenanted so beforehand), he provides good bounds and sufficient
fences betwixt his own and his master's estate
(Jacob, Gen. xxx. 36, set his flock three days'
journey from Laban's), that no quarrel may
arise about their property, nor suspicion that
his remnant hath eaten up his master's whole
cloth.
THE GOOD WIDOW.
SHE is a woman whose head hath been quite
cut off, and yet she liveth. Conceive her
to have buried her husband decently according
to his quality and condition, and let us see how
she behaves herself afterwards.
Her grief for her husband, though real, is
moderate. Excessive was the sorrow of King
Richard the Second, beseeming him neither as
king, man, or Christian, who so fervently
loved Anna of Bohemia his Queen, that when
she died at Sheen, in Surrey, he both cursed




TIHIE G OOD WID 0 W.       5 3
the place, and also out of madness overthrew
the whole house.
But our widow's sorrow is no storm, but a
still rain. Indeed some foolishly discharge the
surplusage of their passions on themselves,
tearing their hair, so that their friends coming
to the funeral know not which most to bemoan,
the dead husband, or the dying widow. Yet
commonly it comes to pass, that such widows'
grief is quickly emptied, which streameth out
at so large a vent; whilst their tears that but
drop will hold running a long time.
She continues a competent time in her
widow's estate. Anciently they were, at least,
to live out their annum luctuis, their year of
sorrow. But as some erroneously compute the
long lives of the patriarchs before the flood, not
by solary, but lunary years, making a month
a year, so many overhasty widows cut their
year of mourning very short, and within few
weeks make post speed to a second marriage.
Though going abroad sometimes about her
business, she never makes it her business to go
abroad.  Indeed "man goeth forth to his
labor," and a widow in civil affairs is often
forced to act a double part of man and woman,
and must go abroad to solicit her business in
person, what she cannot do by the proxy of
her friends. Yet even then she is most careful
of her credit, and tender of her modesty, not




54           THE HOLY STATE.
impudently thrusting into the society of men.
Oh!'t is improper for tinder to strike fire, and
for their sex, which are to be sued to, first to
intrude and offer their company.
She loves to look on her husband's picture
in the children he hath left her: not foolishly
fond over them  for their father's sake (this
were to kill them in honor of the dead), but
giveth them careful education. Her husband's
friends are ever her welcomest guests, whom
she entertaineth with her best cheer, and with
honorable mention of their friend's and her
husband's memory.
If she can speak little good of him, she
speaks but little of him. So handsomely folding up her discourse that his virtues are shown
outwards, and his vices wrapped up in silence,
as counting it barbarism to throw dirt on his
memory who hath moulds cast on his body.
She is a champion for his credit, if any speak
against him.
She putteth her especial confidence in God's
providence. Surely if he be " a father to the
fatherless," it must need follow that he is an
husband to the widow.  And therefore she
seeks to gain and keep his love unto her, by
her constant prayer and religious life.
She will not mortgage her first husband's
pawns, thereby to purchase the good will of a
second. If she marrieth (for which she hath




TIHE CONSTANT VIRGIN.          55
the Apostle's license, not to say mandate, " I
will that the younger widows marry"), she will
not abridge her children of that which justly
belongs unto them. Surely a broken faith to
the former is but a weak foundation to build
thereon a loyal affection to a latter love. Yet
if she becomes a mother-in-law, there is no
difference betwixt her carriage to her own and
her second husband's children, save that she is
severest to her own, over whom she hath the
sole jurisdiction. And if her second husband's
children by a former wife commit a fault, she
had rather bind them over to answer for it
before their own father, than to correct them
herself, to avoid all suspicion of hard using of
them.
THE CONSTANT VIRGIN
S one who hath made a resolution with herself to live chaste and unmarried.  Now
there is a grand difference betwixt a resolution
and a vow. The former is a covenant drawn
up betwixt the party and herself; and commonly runs with this clause, durante nostro
beneplacito, as long as we shall think fitting;
and therefore on just occasion she may give a
release to herself.  But in a vow God is interested as the creditor, so that, except he be




5a6          THE HOL Y STATE.
pleased to give up the bond, none can give an
acquittance to themselves.
She chooseth not a single life solely for itself,
but in reference to the better serving of God.
A single life is none of those things to be desired in and for itself, but because it leads a
more convenient way to the worshipping of
God, especially in time of persecution.  For
then, if Christians be forced to run races for
their lives, the unmarried have the advantage,
lighter by many ounces, and freed from much
incumbrance, which the married are subject
to; who, though private persons, herein are like
princes, they must have their train follow them.
She improveth her single life therewith to
serve God the more constantly. Housekeepers
cannot so exactly mark all their family affairs,
but that sometimes their ranks will be broken;
which disorder by necessary consequence will
disturb their duties of piety, to make them contracted, omitted, or unseasonably performed.
The Apostle saith, " Such shall have troubles
in the flesh "; and grant them sanctified
troubles, yet even holy-thistle and sweetbrier
have their prickles. But the virgin is freed
from these incumbrances. No lording husband
shall at the same time command her presence
and distance, to be always near in constant
attendance, and always to stand aloof off in an
awful observance; so that providing his break



THE CONSTANT VIRGIN.         57
fast hazards her soul to fast a meal of morning
prayer: no crying children shall drown her
singing of psalms, and put her devotion out of
tune: no unfaithful servants shall force her to
divide her eyes betwixt lifting them up to God
and casting them down to oversee their work;
but making her closet her chapel, she freely
enjoyeth God and good thoughts at what time
she pleaseth.
Yet in all her discourse she maketh an honorable mention of marriage. And good reason
that virginity should pay a chief rent of honor
unto it, as acknowledging herself to be a colonia deducta from it. Unworthy is the practice of those who in their discourse plant all
their arguments point-blank to batter down the
married estate, bitterly inveighing against it;
yea, base is the behavior of some young men,
who can speak nothing but satires against
God's ordinance of matrimony, and the whole
sex of women. This they do either out of
deep dissimulation, to divert suspicion, that
they may prey the farthest from their holes;
or else they do it out of revenge: having
themselves formerly lighted on bad women
(yet no worse than they deserved), they curse
all adventures because of their own shipwreck;
or, lastly, they do it out of mere spite to nature
and God himself: and pity it is but that their
fathers had been of the same opinion. Yet




58           TIHE HOLY STA TE.
it may be tolerable, if only in harmless mirth
they chance to bestow a jest upon the follies of
married people. Thus, when a gentlewoman
told an ancient bachelor who looked very
young, that she thought he had eaten a snake,
" No, mistress," said he, " it is because I never
meddled with any snakes which maketh me
look so young."
She counts herself better lost in a modest
silence than found in a bold discourse. Divinity permits not women to speak in the church;
morality forbids maids to tall in the house,
where their betters are present.  She is far
from the humors of those who (more bridling
in their chins than their tongues) love in their
constant prating to make sweet music to their
own ears, and harsh jarring to all the rest of
the company: yea, as some report of sheep,
that when they run they are afraid of the
noise of their own feet; so our virgin is afraid
to hear her own tongue run in the presence of
graver persons. She conceives the bold maintaining of any argument concludes against her
own civil behavior; and yet she will give a
good account of anything whereof she is questioned, sufficient to show her silence is her
choice, not her refuge. In speaking, she studiously avoids all suspicious expressions, which
wanton apprehensions may colorably convert
into obscenity.




THE CONSTANT VIRGIN.           59
She blusheth at the wanton discourse of
others in her company. As fearing that being
in the presence where treason against modesty
is spoken, all in the place will be arraigned for
principal: yea, if silent, she is afraid to be
taken to consent. Wherefore, that she may
not suffer in her title to modesty, to preserve
her right she enters a silent caveat by a blush
in her cheeks, and embraceth the next opportunity to get a gaol-delivery out of that company where she was detained in durance.
Now  because we have mentioned blushing,
which is so frequent with virgins that it is
called a maiden's blush (as if they alone had
a patent to dye this color), give us leave a little
to enlarge ourselves on this subject.
1. Blushing oftentimes proceeds from guiltiness; when the offender, being pursued after,
seeks as it were to hide himself under the
vizard of a new face.
2. Blushing is other times rather a compurgator than an accuser; not arising from guiltiness in our virgin, but from one of these
reasons: First, because she is surprised with
a sudden accusation, and, though armed with
innocency that she cannot be pierced, yel
mav she be amazed with so unexpected E
charge. Secondly, from sensibleness of dis
grace, ashamed, though innocent, to be withir
the suspicion of such faults, and that she hat}




60          THE HOLY STATE.
carried herself so that any tongue durst be s(
impudent as to lay it to her charge. Thirdly
from a disability to acquit herself at the instan
(her integrity wanting rather clearing that
clearness), and perchance she wants boldness
to traverse the action, and so non-suiting herself, she fears her cause will suffer in the judgments of all that be present; and although
accused but in jest, she is jealous the accusation
will be believed in earnest; and edged tools
thrown in merriment may wound reputations.
Fourthly, out of mere anger; for as in fear
the blood makes not an orderly retreat, but a
confused flight to the heart, so in blushing the
blood sallies out into our virgin's cheeks, and
seems as a champion to challenge the accuser
for wronging her.
3. Where small faults are committed, blushing obtains a pardon of course with ingenuous
beholders. As if she be guilty of casual incivilities, or solecisms in manners occasioned
by invincible ignorance and unavoidable mistakes, in such a case blushing is a sufficient penance to restore her to her state of innocency.
She imprisons not herself with a solemn vow
never to marry. For none know their own
strength herein. Who hath sailed about the
world of his own heart, sounded each creek,
surveyed each corner, but that still there remains therein much terra incognita to him



THE ELDER BROTHIER.           61
self?  Junius, at the first little better than a
misogynist, was afterwards so altered from
himself that he successively married four wives.
As she lives with less care, so she dies with
more cheerfulness. Indeed, she was rather a
sojourner than an inhabitant in this world, and
therefore forsakes it with the less grief. In a
word, the way to heaven is alike narrow to all
estates, but far smoother to the virgin than to
the married.
THE ELDER BROTHER
IS one who made haste to come into the world
to bring his parents the first news of male
posterity, and is well rewarded for his tidings.
He is thankful for the advantage God gave
him at the starting in the race into this world.
When twins have been even matched, one hath
gained the goal but by his length.  St. Augustine saith, that it is every man's bounden duty
solemnly to celebrate his birthday. If so, elder
brothers may best afford good cheer on the
festival.
He counts not his inheritance a writ of ease
to free him  from  industry; as if only the
younger brothers came into the world to work,
the elder to compliment. These are the tops




62            THE HOLY STATE.
of their houses indeed, like cotlofts, highest and
emptiest. Rather he laboreth to'furnish himself with all gentle accomplishments, being best
able to go to the cost of learning. He need
not fear to be served as Ulrich Fugger was
(chief of the noble family of the Fuggers in
Augsburg), who was disinherited of a great
patrimony only for his studiousness, and expensiveness in buying costly manuscripts.
He doth not so remember he is an heir, that
he forgets he is a son. Wherefore his carriage
to his parents is always respectful.  It may
chance that his father may be kept in a charitable prison, whereof his son hath the keys;
the old man being only tenant for life, and
the lands entailed on our young gentleman.
In such a case, when it is in his power, if necessity requires, he enlargreth his father to such
a reasonable proportion of liberty as may not
be injurious to himself.
He rather desires his father's life than his
living.
His father's deeds and grants he ratifies and
confirms. If a stitch be fallen in a lease, he
will not widen it into an hole by cavilling, till
the whole strength  of the  grant run  out
thereat; or take advantage of the default of
the clerk in the writing where the deed appears really done, and on a valuable consideration.  He counts himself bound in honor to




THE ELDER BR OTHER.          63
perform what by marks and signs he plainly
understands his father meant, though he spake
it not out.
He reflecteth his lustre to grace and credit
his younger brethren.  Thus Scipio Africanus,
after his great victories against the Carthaginians and conquering of Hannibal, was content
to serve as a lieutenant in the wars of Asia,
under Lucius Scipio his younger brother.
He relieveth his distressed kindred, yet so
as he continues them in their calling. Otherwise they would all make his house their hospital, his kindred their calling.  When one
being an husbandman challenged kindred of
Robert Grosthead, Bishop of Lincoln, and
thereupon requested favor of him to bestow an
office on him, "Cousin," quoth the Bishop,
"if your cart be broken, I'11 mend it; if your
plough old, I'11 give you a new one, and seed
to sow your land; but an husbandman I found
you and an husbandman I'11 leave you." It
is better to ease poor kindred in their profession than to ease them from their profession.
He is careful to support the credit and dignity
of his family; neither wasting his paternal
estate by his unthriftiness, nor marring it by
parcelling his ancient manors and demesnes
amongst his younger children, whom he provides for by annuities, pensions, moneys, leases,
and purchased lands.  He remembers how,




64           THE H OL Y S TA TE.
when our King Alfred divided the river of
Lee (which parts Hertfordshire and Essex)
into three streams, it became so shallow that
boats could not row where formerly ships did
ride. Thus the ancient family of the Woodfords (which had long continued in Leicestershire and elsewhere in England in great account, estate, and livelihood) is at this day
quite extinct. For when Sir Thomas Woodford, in the reign of King Henry the Sixth,
made almost an even partition of his means
betwixt his five grandchildren, the house in
short space utterly decayed; not any part of
his lands now in the tenure or name of any
of his male line, some whereof lived to be
brought to a low ebb of fortune.  Yet, on
the other side, to leave all to the eldest and
make no provision for the rest of their children, is against all rules of religion, forgetting
their Christian name to remember their surname.
THIE YOUNGER BROTHER.
OME account him the better gentleman of
the two because son to the more ancient
gentleman. Wherein his elder brother can
give him the hearing, and a smile into the
bargain.  He shares equally with his elder




TITE YOUNGER BROTHIER.         65
brother in the education, but differs from him
in his portion; and thoughl he giveth also his
father's arms, yet, to use the Herald's language,
he may say,"This to mv elder brother I must yield,
I have the charge, but he hath all the field."
Like herein to a young nephew of Tarquin's
in Rome, who was called Egereus, from wanting of maintenance because his grandfather left
him nothing. It was therefore a mannerly
answer which a young gentleman gave to King
James when he asked him what kin he was to
such a lord of his name.  " Please your Majesty," said he, " my elder brother is his cousingerman."
He repines not at the providence of God in
ordering his birth.  Heirs are made, even
where matches are, both in heaven. Even in
twins, God will have one next the door to come
first into the world.
He labors by his endeavors to date himself
an elder brother.  Nature makes but one,
industry doth make all the sons of the same
man heirs. The fourth brother gives a martilet for the difference of his arms, a bird observed to build either in castles, steeples, or
ships; showing that the bearer hereof, being
debarred from all hopes of his father's inheritance, must seek by war, learning, or merchandise to advance his estate.
5




66           THE HOLY STATE.
In war, he cuts out his fortunes with his own
sword. William the Conqueror, when he first
landed his forces in England, burnt all his
ships, that despair to return mlight make his
men the more valiant.  Younger brothers,
being cut off at home from all hopes, are more
zealous to purchase an honorable support
abroad. Their small arteries with great spirits
have wrought miracles, and their resolution
hath driven success before it. Many of them
have adventured to cheapen dear enterprises,
and were only able to pay the earnest; yet
fortune hath accepted them for chapmen, and
hath freely forgiven them the rest of the payment for their boldness.
Nor are they less happy if applying themselves to their book; nature generally giving
them good wits, which, because they want
room to burnish, may the better afford to soar
high.
But he gaineth more wealth if betaking himself to merchandise; whence often he riseth to
the greatest annual honor in the kingdom.
Many families in England, though not first
raised from the city, yet thence have been
so restored and enriched that it may seem to
amount to an original raising. Neither doth
an apprenticeship extinguish native nor disenable to acquisitive gentry; and they are much
mistaken who hold it to be in the nature of




TIHE YOUNGER BROTHER.         67
bondage. For, first, his indenture is a civil
contract, whereof a bondman is uncapable;
secondly,lno work can be base prescribed in
reference to a noble endct as theirs is that learn
an honest mystery to enable them for the service of' God and the country; thirdly, they
give round sums of money to be bound. Now,
if apprenticeship be a servitude, it is either a
pleasing bondage, or strange madness to purchase it at so dear a rate. Gentry therefore
may be suspended perchance, and sleep during
the apprenticeship, but it awakens afterwards.
Sometimes he lighteth on a wealthy match to
advance him; if meeting with one that is pilot
of her own affections, to steer them without
guidance of her friends, and such as disdaineth
her marriage should be contracted in an exchange where jointure must weigh every grain
even to the portion. Rather she counts it an
act both of love and charity to affect one rich
in deserts, who commonly hath the advantage
of birth as she hath of means; and so it is
made level betwixt them. And thus many a
young gentleman hath gotten honorable maintenance by an heiress.
His means the more hardly gotten are the
more carefully kept. Heat gotten by degrees,
with motion and exercise, is more natural and
stays longer by one than what is gotten all at
once by coming to the fire. Goods acquired




68           THE HOLY STATE.
by industry prove commonly more lasting than
lands by descent.
He ever owneth his elder brother with dutiful respect; yea, though God should so bless
his endeavors as to go beyond him in wealth
and honor. The pride of the Jesuits is generally taxed, who, being the youngest of all other
orders, and therefore by canon to go last, will
never go in procession with other orders, because they will not come behind them.
Sometimes the paternal inheritance falls to
them who never hoped to rise to it. Thus
John, surnamed Sans-terre, or Without-land,
having five elder brothers, came to the kingdom
of England, death levelling those which stood
betwixt him and the crown. It is observed of
the Coringtons, an ancient family in Cornwall,
that, for eight lineal descents, never any one
that was born heir had the land, but it ever fell
to younger brothers.
To conclude, there is a hill in Voitland (a
small country in Germany) called Feitchtelberg, out of which arise four rivers running
four several ways, viz: 1. Eger, east; 2.
Menus, west; 3. Sala, north; and 4. Nabus,
south: so that he that sees their fountains so
near together would admire at their falls so far
asunder. Thus the younger sons of the same
mother and father, embracing different courses
to try their fortunes abroad in the world,




TIlE G OOD AD VO CA TE.      69
chance often to die far off, at great distance,
which were all born in the same place.
THE GOOD ADVOCATE.
HE is one that will not plead that cause
wherein his toingue must be confuted by
his conscience. It is the praise of the Spanish
soldier that, whilst all other nations are mercenary and for money will serve on any side,
he will never fight against his own king; nor
will our advocate against the sovereign truth
plainly appearing to his conscience.
He not only hears but examines his client,
and pincheth the cause where he fears it is
foundered. For many clients in telling their
case rather plead than relate it, so that the
advocate hears not the true state of it till
opened by the adverse party.  Surely the
lawyer that fills himself with instructions will
travel longest in the cause without tiring.
Others- that are so quick in searching, seldom
search to the quick; and those miraculous
apprehensions who understand more than all
before the client had told half, run without
their errand and will return without their
answer.
If the matter be doubtful, he will only war



70           THE HOLY STATE.
rant his own diligence. Yet some keep an
assurance-office in their chamber, and will warrant any cause brought unto them, as knowing
that, if they fail, they lose nothing but what
long since was lost, their credit.
He makes not a Trojan siege of a suit, but
seeks to bring it to a set battle in a speedy
trial. Yet sometimes suits are continued by
their difficulty, the potency and stomach of
the parties, without any default in the lawyer.
He is faithful to the side that first retains
him.  Not like IDemosthenes, who secretly
wrote one oration for Phorinio, and another
in the same matter for Apollodorus, his adversary.
In pleading he shoots fairly at the head of
the cause, and having fastened, no frowns nor
favors shall make him let go his hold. Not
snatching aside here and there to no purpose,
speaking little in much, as it was said of Anaximenes, " that he had a flood of words and
a drop of reason."  His boldness riseth or
falleth as he apprehends the goodness or badness of his cause.
He joys not to be retained in such a suit
where all the right in question is but a drop
blown up with malice to be a bubble. Wherefore, in such trivial matters, he persuades his
client to sound a retreat and make a composition.




THE GOOD JUDGE.            71
When his name is up, his industry is not
down, thinking to plead not by his study but
his credit.  Commonly, physicians, like beer,
are best when they are old; and lawyers, like
bread, when they are young and new. But
our advocate grows not lazy; and if a leading case be out of the road of his practice, he
will take pains to trace it through his books,
and prick the footsteps thereof wheresoever he
finds it.
He is more carefill to deserve, than greedy to
take, fees. He accounts the very pleading of
a poor widow's honest cause sufficient fees, as
conceiving himself then the King of Heaven's
advocate, bound ex officio to prosecute it. And
although some may say that such a lawyer may
even go live in Cornwall, where it is observed
that few of that profession hitherto have grown
to any great livelihood, yet shall he, besides
those two felicities of common lawyers, that
they seldom (lie either without heirs or making
a will, find God's blessing on his provisions and
posterity.
THE GOOD JUDGE.
THE good advocate whom we formerly described is since, by his prince's favor and




72          THE H OLY STATE.
own deserts, advanced to be a judge; which
his place he freely obtained with Sir Augustine
Nicolls, whom King James used to call "the
judge that would give no money." Otherwise
they that buy justice by wholesale, to make
themselves savers, must sell it by retail.
He is patient and attentive in hearing the
pleadings on both sides, and hearkens to the
witnesses, though tedious.  He may give a
waking testimony who hath but a dreaming
utterance; and many country people must be
impertinent before they can be pertinent, and
cannot give evidence about a hen but first they
must begin with it in the egg. All which our
judge is contented to hearken to.
He meets not a testimony half-way, but stays
till it come at him. He that proceeds on halfevidence will not do quarter-justice.  Our
judge will not go till he is led. If any shall
browbeat a pregnant witness on purpose to
make his proof miscarry, he checketh them
and helps the witness that labors in his delivery.
On the other side, he nips those lawyers who,
under a pretence of kindness to lend a witness
some words, give him new matter, yea, clean
contrary to what he intended.
Having heard with patience, he gives sentence with uprightness. For when he put on
his robes he put off his relations to any, and,
like Melchisedech, becomes without pedigree.




THE GOOD JUDGE.            73
His private affections are swallowed up in the
common cause, as rivers lose their names in the
ocean. He therefore allows no noted favorites,
which cannot but cause multiplication of fees
and suspicion of by-ways.
He silences that lawyer who seeks to set the
neck of a bad cause, once broken with a -definitive sentence; and causeth that contentious
suits be spewed out, as the surfeits of courts.
He so hates bribes that he is jealous to receive any kindness above the ordinary proportion of friendship; lest, like the sermons of
wandering preachers, they should end in begging. And, surely, integrity is the proper portion of a judge.  Men have a touchstone
whereby to try gold; but gold is the touchstone whereby to try men. It was a shrewd
gird which Catulus gave the Roman judge for
acquitting Clodius, a great malefactor, when
he met them going home well attended with
officers: " You do well," quoth he, " to be well
guarded for your safety, lest the money be
taken away from you, you took for bribes."
Our judge also detesteth the trick of mendicant
friars, who will touch no money themselves, but
have a boy with a bag to receive it for them.
When he sits upon life, in judgment he
remembereth  mercy.   Then  (they say) a
butcher may not be of the jury, much less
let him be the judge. Oh let him take heed




74          THE HOLY STATE.
how  he strikes that hath a dead hand.  It
was the charge Queen Mary gave to Judge
Morgan, chief justice of the common pleas,
that, notwithstanding the old error amongst
judges did not admit any witness to speak or
any other matter to be heard in favor of the
adversary, her Majesty being party, yet her
Highness' pleasure was, that whatsoever could
be brought in the favor of the subject should
be admitted and heard.
If the cause be difficult, his diligence is the
greater to sift it out.  For though there be
mention, Psalm xxxvii. 6, of" righteousness as
clear as the noonday," yet God forbid that
that innocency which is no clearer than twilight
should be condemned. And seeing one's oath
commands another's life, he searcheth whether
malice did not command that oath; yet when
all is done, the judge may be deceived by false
evidence. But blame not the hand of the dial
if it points at a false hour, when the fault is in
the wheels of the clock which direct it and are
out of frame.
The sentence of condemnation he pronounceth with all gravity. It is best when steeped
in the judge's tears. He avoideth all jesting
on men in misery; easily may he put them out
of countenance whom he hath power to put
out of life.
Such as are unworthy to live and yet un



THE GOOD JUDGE.            75
fitted to die, he provides shall be instructed.
By God's mercy and good teaching, the reprieve of their bodies may get the pardon of
their souls, and one day's longer life for them
here may procure a blessed eternity for them
hereafter, as may appear by this memorable
example.  It happened about the year one
thousand five hundred and fifty-six, in the
town of Weissenstein, in Germany, that a Jew,
for theft he had committed, was in this cruel
manner to be executed: he was hanged by the
feet with his head downwards betwixt two
dogs, which constantly snatched and bit at him.
The strangeness of the torment moved Jacobus Andreas, a grave, moderate, and learned
divine as any in that age, to go to behold it.
Coming thither, he found the poor wretch, as
he hung, repeating verses out of the Hebrew
Psalms, wherein he cried out to God for mercy.
Andreas hereupon took occasion to counsel
him to trust in Jesus Christ, the true Saviour
of mankind. The Jew embracing the Christian
faith requested but this one thing, — that he
might be taken down and be baptized, though
presently after he were hanged again, (but by
the neck, as Cliristian malefactors suffered,)
which was accordingly granted him.
He is exact to do justice in civil suits betwixt
sovereign and subject. This will most ingratiat3 him with his prince at last. Kings neither




76           THE HOLY STATE.
are, can, nor should be lawyers themselves by
reason of higher state employments; but herein
they see with the eyes of their judges, and at
last will break those flalse spectacles which in
point of law shall be found to have deceived
them.
He counts the rules of state and the laws of
the realm mutually support each other. Those
who made the laws to be not only disparate,
but even opposite terms to maxims of government, were true friends neither to laws nor
government. Indeed, salus reipublicce is charta
maxima: extremity makes the next the best
remedy.  Yet though hot waters be good to
ble given to one in a swoon, they will burn his
heart out who drinks them  constantly when in
health. Extraordinary courses are not ordinarily to be used when not enforced by absolute
necessity.
And thus we leave our good judge to receive
a just reward of his integrity from the Judge
of judges at the great assize of the world.
THE GOOD PHYSICIAN.
COMING to his patient, he persuades him to
put his trust in God, the fountain of health.
The neglect hereof hath caused the bad success




TIHE GOOD PHYSICIAN.         77
of the best physicians; for God will manifest
that, though skill come mediately from him, to
be gotten by man's pains, success comes from
him immediately, to be disposed at his pleasure.
He hansels not his new experiments on the
bodies of his patients; letting loose mad receipts into the sick man's body, to try how well
nature in him will fight against them, whilst
himself stands by and sees the battle; except
it be in desperate cases, when death must be
expelled by death.
To poor people he prescribes cheap but
wholesome medicine; not removing the consumption out of their. bodies into their purses;
nor sending them to the East Indies for drugs
when they can reach better out of their
gardens.
Lest his apothecary should oversee, he oversees his apothecary. For though many of that
profession be both able and honest, yet some,
out of ignorance or haste, may mistake: —
witness one of Blois, who, being to serve a
doctor's bill, instead of optimi (short written)
read ojpii, and had sent the patient asleep to
his grave if the doctor's watchfulness had not
prevented him. Worse are those who make
wilful errors, giving one thing for another. A
prodigal, who had spent his estate, was pleased
to jeer himself, boasting that he had cozened
those who had bought his means. " They gave




78           THE HOLY STATE.
me," said he, " good new money, and I sold
them my great-great-grandfather's old land."
But this cozenage is too true in many apothecaries, selling to sick folk for new money antiquated drugs, and making dying men's physic
of dead ingredients.
He brings not news, with a false spy, that the
coast is clear, till death surprises the sick man.
I know, physicians love to make the best of
their patient's estate.  First, it is improper
that adjutores vitce should be nuncii mortis.
Secondly, none, with their good will, will tell
bad news.  Tlirdly, their fee may be the
worse for it. Fourthly,'t is a confessing that
their art is conquered. Fifthly, it will poison
their patient's heart with grief and make it
break before the time.  However, they may so
order it that the party may be informed of his
dangerous condition, that he be not outed of
this world before he be provided for another.
When he can keep life no longer in, he
makes a fair and easy passage for it to go out.
He giveth his attendance for the facilitating
and assuaging of the pains and agonies of death.
Yet, generally,'t is death to a physician to be
with a dying man.
Unworthy pretenders to physic are rather
foils than stains to the profession. Such a one
was that counterfeit who called himself the
Baron of Blackamore, and feigned he was sent




TIIE FAITHIFUL MINISTER.      79
from the Emperor to our young King Henry
the Sixth, to be his principal physician; but his
forgery being discovered, he was apprehended,
and executed in the Tower of London, anno
1426; and such the world daily swarms with.
Well did the poets feign iEsculapius and Circe,
brother and sister, and both children of the
Sun; for in all times, in the opinion of the
multitude, witches, old women, and impostors
have had a competition with physicians. And
commonly the most ignorant are the most confident in their undertakings, and will not stick
to tell you what disease the gall of a dove is
good to cure. He took himself to be no mean
doctor, who, being guilty of no Greek, and
being demanded why it was called an " hectic
fever "; "because," saith he, " of an hecking
cough, which ever attendeth that disease."
THE FAITHFUL MINISTER.
TE suppose him not brought up by hand
only in his own country studies, but that
he hath suck of his Mother University, and
thoroughly learnt the arts; not as St. Rumball,
who is said to have spoken as soon as he was
born, doth he preach as soon as he is matric



80           THE HOLY STATE.
ulated. Conceive him now a graduate in arts
and called to a pastoral charge, and then let
us see how well he dischargeth his office.
He endeavors to get the general love and
good-will of his parish. This he doth not so
much to make a benefit of them, as a benefit
for them, that his ministry may be more effectual; otherwise he may preach his own heart
out before he preacheth anything into theirs.
The good conceit of the physician is half a
cure, and his, practice will scarce be happy
where his person is hated; yet he humors
them not in his doctrine to get their love, for
such a spaniel is worse than a dumb dog. He
shall sooner get their good-will by walking
uprightly than by crouching and creeping. If
pious living and painful laboring in his calling
will not win their affections, he counts it gain
to lose them. As for those which causelessly
hate him, he pities and prays for them; and
such there will be.  I should  suspect his
preaching had no salt in it, if no galled horse
did wince.
He is strict in ordering his conversation. As
for those who cleanse blurs with blotted fingers,
they make it the worse. It was said of one
who preached very well and lived very ill, that
"when he was out of the pulpit it was pity
he should ever go into it, and when he was in
the pulpit it was pity he should ever come out




THE FAI THF UL MINISTER.      81
of it "; but our minister lives sermons. And
yet I deny not but dissolute men, like unskilful
horsemen which open a gate on the wrong side,
may by the virtue of their office open heaven
for others and shut themselves out.
His behavior towards his people is grave and
courteous; not too austere and retired, which
is laid to the charge of good Mr. Hooper the
martyr, that his rigidness frighted people from
consulting with him. " Let your light," saith
Christ, " shine before men "; whereas overreservedness makes the brightest virtue burn
dim. Especially he detesteth affected gravity
(which is rather on men than in them), whereby
some belie their register-book, antedate their
age to seem far older than they are, and plait
and set their brows in an affected sadness.
Whereas St. Anthony, the monk, might have
been known among hundreds of his order by
his cheerful face, he having ever, though a most
mortified man, a merry countenance.
He doth not clash God's ordinances together
about precedency; not making odious comparisons betwixt prayer and preaching, preaching
and catechizing, public prayer and private,
premeditate prayer and extempore. When, at
the taking of New Carthage, in Spain, two
soldiers contended about the mural crown, due
to him who first climbed the walls, so that the
whole army was thereupon in danger of divis6




82          THE HOL Y STA TE.
ion, Scipio, the General, said, "he knew that
they both got up the wall together," and so
gave the scaling crown to them both. Thus
our minister compounds all controversies betwixt God's ordinances by praising them all,
practising them all, and thanking God for
them all.
He carefully catechizeth his people in the
elements of religion; except he hath (a rare
thing) a flock without lambs, - all of old sheep;
and yet even Luther did not scorn to profess himself discipulum catechismi, a scholar of
the catechism. By this catechizing, the Gospel
first got ground of Popery; and let not our
religion, now grown rich, be ashamed of that
which first gave it credit and set it up, lest the
Jesuits beat us at our own weapon. Through
the want of this catechizing, many which are
well skilled in some dark out-corners of divinity have lost themselves in the beaten road
thereof.
He will not offer to God of that which costs
him nothing, but takes pains aforehand for his
sermons. Demosthenes never made any oration
on the sudden; yea, being called upon, lie never
rose up to speak except he had well studied
the matter; and he was wont to say that he
showed how he honored and reverenced the
people of Athens, because he was careful what
he spake unto them. Indeed, if our minister




THE FAITHFUL MINISTER.        83
be surprised with a sudden occasion, he counts
himself rather to be excused than commended,
if, premeditating only the bones of his sermon,
he clothes it with flesh extempore. As for
those whose long custom hath made preaching
their nature that they can discourse sermons
without study, he accounts their examples
rather to be admired than imitated.
Having brought his sermon into his head,
he labors to bring it into his heart before he
preaches it to his people. Surely, that preaching which comes from the soul most works on
the soul. Some have questioned ventriloquy,
when men strangely speak out of their bellies,
whether it can be done lawfully or no; might
I coin the word cordiloquy, when men draw the
doctrines out of their hearts, sure all would
count this lawful and commendable.
He chiefly reproves the reigning sins of the
time and place he lives in. We may observe
that our Saviour never inveighed against idolatry, usury, sabbath-breaking, amongst the Jews;
not that these were not sins, but they were not
practised so much in that age, wherein wickedness was spun with a finer thread; and therefore Christ principally bent the drift of his
preaching against spiritual pride, hypocrisy, and
traditions, then predominant amongst the people. Also our minister confuteth no old heresies which time hath confuted; nor troubles




84           THE HOLY STATE.
his auditory with such strange, hideous cases
of conscience, that it is more hard to find the
case than the resolution. In public reproving
of sin he ever whips the vice and spares the
person.
He doth not only move the bread of life and
toss it up and down in generalities, but also
breaks it into particular directions, drawing it
down to cases of conscience that a man may
be warranted in his particular actions whether
they be lawful or not. And he teacheth people their lawful liberty as well as their restraints and prohibitions; for amongst men it is
as ill taken to turn back favors as to disobey
commands.
The places of scripture he quotes are pregnant and pertinent. As for heaping up of
many quotations it smacks of a vain ostentation
of memory.  Besides it is as impossible that
the hearer should profitably retain them all,
as that the preacher had seriously perused
them all; yea, whilst the auditors stop their
attention and stoop down to gather an impertinent quotation, the sermon runs on and they
lose more substantial matter.
His similes and illustrations are always familiar, never contemptible.  Indeed, reasons are
the pillars of the fabric of a sermon, but similitudes are the windows which give the best
lights. He avoids such stories whose mention




THE FAI THF 7L MINISTER.      85
may suggest bad thoughts to the auditors, and
will not use a light comparison to make thereof
a grave application, for fear lest his poison go
farther than his antidote.
He provideth not only wholesome but plentiful food for his people. Almost incredible
was the painfulness of Baronius, the compiler
of the voluminous annals of the church, who,
for thirty years together, preached three or
four times a week to the people. As for our
minister, he preferreth rather to entertain his
people with wholesome cold meat which was
on the table before, than with that which is
hot from the spit, raw and half roasted. Yet,
in repetition of the same sermon, every edition
hath a new addition, if not of new matter, of
new affections.  "Of whom," saith St. Paul,
"' we have told you often, and now we tell you
weeping."
He makes not that wearisome, which should
ever be welcome. Wherefore his sermons are
of an ordinary length, except on an extraordinary occasion. What a gift had John Halsebach, Professor at Vienna, in tediousness? who,
being to expound the Prophet Esay to his auditors, read twenty-one years on the first chapter,
and yet finished it not.
He counts the success of his ministry the
greatest preferment.  Yet herein God hath
humbled many painful pastors, in making them




86            THE HOLY STATE.
to be clouds to rain, not over Arabia the Happy, but over the Stony or Desert: so that they
may complain with the herdsman in the poet,
" Heu mihi, quhm pingui macer est mihi taurus in arvo! "
My starveling bull,
Ah wo is me,
In pasture full,
How lean is he!
Yet such pastors may comfort themselves
that great is their reward with God in heaven,
who measures it not by their success but endeavors. Besides, though they see not, their
people may feel benefit by their ministry. Yea,
the preaching of the word in some places is like
the planting of woods, where, though no profit
is received for twenty years together, it comes
afterwards. And grant that God honors thee
not to build his temple in thy parish, yet thou
mayest with David provide metal and materials
for Solomon thy successor to build it with.
To sick folks he comes sometimes before he
is sent for, as counting his vocation a sufficient
calling. None of his flock shall want the extreme unction of prayer and counsel. Against
the communion, especially, he endeavors that
Janus's temple be shut in the whole parish,
and that all be made friends.
He is never plaintiff in any suit but to be
right's defendant.  If his dues be detained
from him, he grieves more for his parishioners'




THE FAITHFUL MINISTER.         87
bad consciences than his own damage. He had
rather suffer ten times in his profit than once
in his title, where not only his person, but posterity is wronged: and then he proceeds fairly
and speedily to a trial, that he may not vex
and weary others, but right himself. During
his suit, he neither breaks off nor slacks offices
of courtesy to his adversary; yea, though he
loseth his suit, he will not also lose his charity.
He is moderate in his tenets and opinions.
Not that he gilds over lukewarmness in matters of moment with the title of discretion, but
withal lie is carefill not to entitle violence in
indifferent and inconcerning matters to be zeal.
Indeed, men of extraordinary tallness (though
otherwise little deserving) are made porters to
lords; and those of unusual littleness are made
ladies' dwarfs, whilst men of moderate stature
may want masters. Thus, many notorious for
extremities may find favorers to prefer them,
whilst moderate men in the middle truth may
want any to advance them. But what saith
the apostle?   " If in this life only we had
hope, we are of all men the most miserable."
He is sociable and willing to do any courtesy
for his neighbor ministers.  He willingly communicates his knowledge unto them. Surely
the gifts and graces of Christians lay in common, till base envy made the first enclosure.
He neither slighteth his inferiors nor repineth




88            THE HOLY STATE.
at those who in parts and credit are above him.
He loveth the company of his neighbor ministers. Sure as ambergris is nothing so sweet
in itself as when it is compounded with other
things, so both godly and learned men are
gainers by communicating themselves to their
neighbors.
He is careful in the discreet ordering of his
own family. A good minister and a good father
may well agree together.  When a certain
Frenchman came to visit Melancthon, he found
him in his stove, with one hand dandling his
child, and in the other hand holding a book
and reading it. Our minister also is as hospitable as his estate will permit, and makes
every alms two by his cheerful giving it. He
loveth also to live in a well-repaired house, that
he may serve God therein more cheerfully. A
clergyman who built his house from the ground
wrote in it this counsel to his successor:
"If thou dost find an house built to thy mind
Without thy cost,
Serve thou the more God and the poor;
My labor is not lost."
Lying on his deathbed, he bequeaths to each
of his parishioners his precepts and example
for a legacy; and they in requital erect every
one a monument for him in their hearts. He
is so far from that base jealousy that his memory should be outshined by a brighter succes



TIIE CONTROTVERSIAL DI VINE.    89
sor, and from that wicked desire that his people
may find his worth by the worthlessness of him
that succeeds, that he doth heartily pray to God
to provide them a better pastor after his decease. As for outward estate, he commonly
lives in too bare pasture to die fat: it is well
if he hath gathered any flesh, being more in
blessing than bulk.
THE CONTROVERSIAL DIVINE.
HE is truth's champion, to defend her against
all adversaries, atheists, heretics, schismatics, and erroneous persons whatsoever.  His
sufficiency appears in opposing, answering,
moderating, and writing.
He engageth both his judgment and affections in opposing of falsehood.  Not like country fencers, who play only to make sport, but
like duellers indeed, as if for life and limb;
chiefly if the question be of large prospect and
great concernings, he is zealous in the quarrel.
Yet some, though their judgment weigh down
on one side, the beam of their affections stands
so even, they care not which part prevails.
In opposing a truth, he dissembles himself
her foe, to be her better friend.  Wherefore
he counts himself the greatest conqueror when




90           THE HOLY STATE.
truth hath taken him captive. With Joseph,
having sufficiently sifted the matter in a disguise, he discovereth himself, "I am Joseph
your brother," and then throws away his vizaird. Dishonest they, who, though the debt
be satisfied, will never give up the bond, but
continue wrangling when the objection is answered.
He abstains from all foul and railing language.  What? make thei muses, yea, the
graces scolds?  Such purulent spittle argues
exulcerated lungs.  Why should there be so
much railing about the body of Christ, when
there was none about the body of Moses in the
act kept betwixt the devil and Michael the
archangel?
He tyrannizeth not over a weak and undermatched adversary; but seeks rather to cover
his weakness, if he be a modest man. When a
Professor pressed an answerer (a better Christian than a clerk) with a hard argument,-Reverende Professor, said he, ingenue confiteor me
non posse respondere huic argumento. To whom
the Professor, - Recte respondes.
In answering, he states the question, and
expoundeth the terms thereof. Otherwise the
disputants shall end, where they ought to have
begun, in differences about words, and be barbarians each to other, speaking in a language
neither understands. If the question also be




THE CONTRO VERSIAL DIVINE.      91
of historical cognizance, he shows the pedigree
thereof, who first brewed it, who first broached
it, and sends the wandering error with a passport home to the place of its birth.
In taking away an objection, he not only puts
by the thrust, but breaks the weapon. Some
rather escape than defeat an argument; and
though, by such an evasion, they may shut the
mouth of the opponent, yet may they open the
difficulty wider in the hearts of the hearers.
But our answerer either fairly resolves the
doubt, or else shows the falseness of the argument, by beggaring the opponent to maintain
such a fruitful generation of absurdities as his
argument hath begotten; or, lastly, returns and
retorts it back upon him again. The first way
unties the knot; the second cuts it asunder;
the third whips the opponent with the knot
himself tied.  Sure,'t is more honor to be a
clear answerer than a cunning opposer, because
the latter takes advantage of man's ignorance,
which is ten times more than his knowledge.
What his answers want in suddenness, they
have in solidity. Indeed, the speedy answer
adds lustre to the disputation, and honor to the
disputant; yet he makes good payment, who,
though he cannot presently throw the money
out of his pocket, yet will pay its if but going
home to unlock his chest. Some that are not
for speedy may be for sounder performance.




92           THE H OLY STATE.
When Melancthon, at the disputation of Ratisbon, was pressed with a shrewd argument by
Eckius, "I will answer thee," said he, "tomorrow."  "Nay," said Eckius, " do it now,
or it is nothing worth."  "Yea," said Melancthon, "I seek the truth, and not mine own
credit, and therefore it will be as good if I
answer thee to-morrow by God's assistance."
In moderating, he sides with the answerer,
if the answerer sides with the truth.  But if
he be conceited, and opinioned of his own sufficiency, he lets him swoon before he gives him
any hot water. If a paradox-monger, loving
to hold strange, yea, dangerous opinions, he
counts it charity to suffer such a one to be
beaten without mercy, that he may be weaned
from his wilfulness. For the main, he is so a
staff to the answerer, that he makes him stand
on his own legs.
In writing, his Latin is pure, so far as the
subject will allow; for those who are to climb
the Alps are not to expect a smooth and even
way.  True it is, that schoolmen, perceiving
that fallacy had too much covert under the nap
of flourishing language, used threadbare Latin
on purpose, and cared not to trespass on grammar, and tread down the fences thereof to avoid
the circuit of words, and to go the nearest way
to express their conceits.  But our divine,
though he useth barbarous school-terms, which,




THE CONTROVERSIAL DIVI1E.        93
like standers, are fixed to the controversy, yet,
in his movable Latin, passages, and digressions,
his style is pure and elegant.
He affects clearness and plainness in all his
writings. Some men's heads are like the world
before God said unto it, IFiat lux. These dark
lanterns may shine to themselves, and understand their own conceits, but nobody else
can have light from  them.  Thus Matthias
Farinator, Professor at Vienna, assisted with
some other learned men, as the times then
went, was thirty years making a book of applying Plato's, Aristotle's, and Galen's rules in
philosophy, to Christ and his Prophets, and't is called lumen ainmce; quo tamen nihil est
caliginosius, labore magno, sed ridiceulo et inani.
But this obscurity is worst when affected, when
they do as Persius, of whom one saith,-Legi
voluit quce seripsit, intelligi nolait quce legerentur. Some affect this darkness, that they may
be accounted profound, whereas one is not
bound to believe that all the water is deep
that is muddy.
He is not curious in searching matters of no
moment.  Captain Martin Frobisher fetched
from the farthest northern countries a ship's
lading of mineral stones, as he thought, which
afterwards were cast out to mend the highways.
Thus are they served, and miss their hopes,
who, long seeking to extract hidden mysteries




94           THE HOLY STATE.
out of nice questions, leave them off as useless at last. Antoninus Pius, for his desire
to search to the least differences, was called
cumini sector, the carver of cumin seed.  One
need not be so accurate; for as soon shall one
scour the spots out of the moon, as all ignorance out of man. When Eunomius the heretic vaunted that he knew God and his divinity,
St. Basil gravels him in twenty-one questions
about the body of an ant or pismire; so dark
is man's understanding. I wonder, therefore,
at the boldness of some, who, as if they were
Lord Marshals of the angels, place them  in
ranks and files. Let us not believe them here,
but rather go to heaven to confute them.
He neither multiplies needless, nor compounds necessary controversies.  Sure they
light on a labor in vain who seek to make a
bridge of reconciliation over the  dEya Xalloa
betwixt Papists and Protestants; for though
we go ninety-nine steps, they (I mean their
Church) will not come one, to give us a meeting. And as for the offers of Clara's and private men, (besides that they seem to be more
of the nature of baits than gifts,) they may
make large proffers, without any commission to
treat, and so the Romish Church not bound
to pay their promises. In Merionethshire, in
Wales, there are high mountains, whose hanging tops come so close together that shepherds




THE TRUE CHUR CI ANTIQUARY.   9a5
on the tops of several hills may audibly talk
together, yet will it be a day's journey for their
bodies to meet, so vast is the hollowness of the
vallies betwixt them. Thus, upon sound search
shall we find a grand distance and remoteness
betwixt Popish and Protestant tenets to reconcile them, which, at the first view, may seem
near, and tending to an accommodation.
He is resolute and stable in fundamental
points of religion.  These are his fixed poles
and axle-tree, about which he moves, whilst
they stand unmoveable. Some sail so long on
the sea of controversies, tossed up and down,
to and fro, pro and con, that the very ground
to them seems to move, and their judgments
grow skeptical and unstable in the most settled
points of divinity. When he cometh to preach,
especially if to a plain auditory, with the Paracelsians he extracts an oil out of the driest and
hardest bodies; and, knowing that knotty timber is unfit to build with, he edifies people with
easy and profitable matter.
THE TRUE CHURCH ANTIQUARY.
HE is a traveller into former times, whence
he hath learnt their language and fashions.
If he meets with an old manuscript, which hath




96           THE HOLY STATE.
the mark worn out of its mouth, and hath lost
the date, yet he can tell the age thereof, either
by the phrase or character.
He baits at middle antiquity, but lodges not
till he comes at that which is ancient indeed.
Some scour off the rust of old inscriptions into
their own souls, cankering themselves with
superstition, having read so often, Orate pro
anima, that at last they fall a-praying for the
departed; and they more lament the ruin of
monasteries than the decay and ruin of monks'
lives, degenerating from their ancient piety and
painfulness. Indeed, a little skill in antiquity
inclines a man to popery; but depth in that
study brings him about again to our religion.
A nobleman who had heard of the extreme
age of one dwelling not far off, made a journey
to visit him, and finding an aged person sitting
in the chimney-corner, addressed himself unto
him with admiration of his age till his mistake
was rectified: for, " Oh, sir," said the youngold man, " I am not he whom you seek for, but
his son; my father is farther off in the field."
The same error is daily committed by the
Romish Church, adoring the reverend brow
and gray hairs of some ancient ceremonies,
perchance but of some seven or eight hundred
years' standing in the church, and mistake
these for their fathers, of far greater age in the
primitive times.




THEI TRUE CHURCH ANTIQ2UARY.   97
He desires to imitate the ancient fathers, as
well in their piety as in their postures; not
only conforming his hands and knees, but
chiefly his heart, to their pattern. O the holiness of their living, and painfulness of their
preaching! How full were they of mortified
thoughts and heavenly meditations!  Let us
not make the ceremonial part of their lives only
canonical, and the moral part thereof altogether
apocrypha, imitating their devotion not in the
fineness of the stuff, but only in the fashion of
the making.
He carefully marks the declination of the
Church from the primitive purity; observing
how sometimes humble devotion was contented
to lie down, whilst proud superstition got on
her back. Yea, not only Frederick the Emperor, but many a godly father some hundreds
of years before, held the pope's stirrup, and by
their well-meaning simplicity gave occasion to
his future greatness.  He takes notice how
their rhetorical hyperboles were afterwards accounted the just measure of dogmatical truths;
how plain people took them at their word in
their funeral apostrophes to the dead; how
praying for the departed brought the fuel, under which after-ages kindled the fire of purgatory; how one ceremony begat another, there
being no bounds in will-worship, wherewith
one may sooner be wearied than satisfied, the
7




98           THE HOLY STATE.
inventors of new ceremonies endeavoring to
supply in number what their conceits want in
solidity; how men's souls, being in the full
speed and career of the historical use of pictures, could not stop short, but must lash out
into superstition; how the fathers, veiling
their bonnets to Rome in civil courtesy, when
making honorable mention thereof, are interpreted by modern papists to have done it in
adoration of the idol of the pope's infallibility.
All these things he ponders in his heart, observing both the times and places when and
where they happened.
He is not zealous for the introducing of old,
useless ceremonies. The mischief is, some that
are most violent to bring such in, are most negligent to preach the cautions in using them;
and simple people, like children in eating of
fish, swallow bones and all, to their danger of
choking. Besides, what is observed of horsehairs, that lying nine days in water they turn
to snakes, so some ceremonies, though dead at
first, in continuance of time quicken, get stings,
and may do much mischief, especially if in such
an age wherein the meddling of some have
justly awaked the jealousy of all. When many
popish tricks are abroad in the country, if then
men meet with a ceremony which is a stranger,
especially if it can give but a bad account of
itself, no wonder if the watch take it up for one
on suspicion.




THE TRUE CNHURCH ANTIQ UARY.    99
He is not peremptory but conjectural in
doubtful matters; not forcing others to his own
opinion, but leaving them to their own liberty;
not filling up all with his own conjectures, to
leave no room for other men; nor tramples he
on their credits, if in them he finds slips and
mistakes.  For here our souls have but one
eye (the apostle saith, " we know in part"):
be not proud if that chance to come athwart
thy seeing side, which meets with the blind
side of another.
He thankfully acknowledgeth those by whom
he hath profited.  Base-natured they who,
when they have quenched their own thirst,
stop up, at least muddy, the fountain.  But
our antiquary, if he be not the first founder of
a commendable conceit, contents himself to be
a benefactor to it in clearing and adorning it.
He affects not fanciful singularity in his behavior; nor cares to have a proper mark in
writing of words, to disguise some peculiar
letter from  the ordinary character.  Others,
for fear travellers should take no notice that
skill in antiquity dwells in such a head, hang
out an antique hat for the sign, or use some
obsolete garb in their garments, gestures, or
discourse.
He doth not so adore the ancients as to despise the moderns. Grant them but dwarfs,
yet stand they on giants' shoulders, and may




100          THE HOL Y STATE.
see the further. Sure, as stout champions of
truth follow in the rear as ever marched in the
front.  Besides, as one excellently observes,
Antiquitas seculijuventus mundi.* These times
are the ancient times, when the world is ancient; and not those which we count ancient
ordine retrogrado, by a computation backwards
from ourselves.
THE GOOD PARISHIONER.
VE will only describe his church-reference;
his civil part hath and shall be met with
tnder other heads.  Conceive him to live under such a faithful minister as before was charactered, as, either judging charitably that all
pastors are such, or wishing heartily that they
were.
Though near to the church, lie is not far
from God.  Like unto Justus, Acts xviii. 8,
" one that worshipped God, and his house
joined hard to the synagogue." Otherwise, if
his distance from the church be great, his diligence is the greater to come thither in season.
He is timely at the beginning of prayer.
Yet, as Tully charged some dissolute people for
being such sluggards that they never saw the
" Sir Francis Bacon, Advancement of Learlnig.




TIlE GOOD PARISHIONER.         101
sun rising or setting, as being always up after
the one, and abed before the other; so some
negligent people never hear prayers begun, or
sermon ended, the confession being past before
*they come, and the blessing not come before
they are passed away.
In sermon he sets himself to hear God in the
minister. Therefore divesteth he himself of all
prejudice, the jaundice in the eyes of the soul,
presenting colors false unto it.  He hearkens
very attentively:'t is a shame when the church
itself is coemeterium, wherein the living sleep
above ground as the dead do beneath.
At every point that concerns himself, he
turns down a leaf in his heart; and rejoiceth
that God's word hath pierced him, as hoping
that whilst his soul smarts, it heals. And as
it is no manners for him that hath good venison
before him to ask whence it came, but rather
fairly to fall to it, so, hearing an excellent sermon, he never inquires whence the preacher
had it, or whether it was not before in print,
but falls aboard to practise it.
He accuseth not his minister of spite for particularizing him. It does not follow that the
archer aimed because the arrow hit. Rather
our parishioner reasoneth thus: If my sin be
notorious, how could the minister miss it? if secret, how could he hit it without God's direction? But foolish hearers make even the bells




102          TIlE HOLY STATE.
of Aaron's garments to clink as they think.
And a guilty conscience is like a whirlpool,
drawing in all to itself which otherwise would
pass by.  One, causelessly disaffected to his
minister, complained that he in his last sermon
had personally inveighed against him, and accused him thereof to a grave religious gentleman in the parish.  "Truly," said the gentleman, " I had thought in his sermon he had
meant me, for it touched my heart."  This
rebated the edge of the other's anger.
His tithes he pays willingly with cheerfulness. How many part with God's portions
grudgingly, or else pinch it in the paying.
Decimum, the tenth, amongst the Romans was
ever taken for what was best or biggest. It
falls out otherwise in paying of tithes, where
the least and leanest are shifted off to make
that number.
He hides not himself from any parish office
which seeks for him. If chosen churchwarden,
he is not busily idle, rather to trouble than reform, presenting all things but those which he
should. If overseer of the poor, he is careful
the rates be made indifferent (whose inequality
oftentimes is more burdensome than the sum)
and well disposed of. He measures not people's
wants by their clamorous complaining, and dispenseth more to those that deserve than to
them that only need relief.




THE GOOD PARISHIIONER.       103
He is bountiful in contributing to the repair
of God's house. For though he be not of their
opinion who would have the churches under
the gospel conformed to the magnificence of
Solomon's Temple, (whose porch would serve
us for a church,) and adorn them so gaudily
that devotion is more distracted than raised,
and men's souls rather dazzled than lightened,
yet he conceives it fitting that such sacred
places should be handsomely and decently
maintained: the rather, because the climacterical year of many churches friom their first
foundation may seem to happen in our days;
so old, that their ruin is threatened if not
speedily repaired.
He is respectful to his minister's widow and
posterity, for his sake. When the only daughter of Peter Martyr was, through the riot and
prodigality of her husband, brought to extreme
poverty, the State of Zurich, out of grateful
remembrance of her father, supported her with
bountiful maintenance. My prayers shall be,
that ministers' widows and children may never
stand in need of such relief, and may never
want such relief when they stand in need.




104          THE HOLY STATE.
THE GOOD SCHOOLMASTER
THERE is scarce any profession in the commonwealth more necessary, which is so
slightly performed.  The reasons whereof I
conceive to be these: First, young scholars
make this calling their refuge, yea, perchance
before they have taken any degree in the university, commence schoolmasters in the country, as if nothing else were required to set up
this profession but only a rod and a ferula.
Secondly, others, who are able, use it only as a
passage to better preferment, to patch the rents
in their present fortune till they can provide a
new one, and betake themselves to some more
gainful calling. Thirdly, they are disheartened
from doing their best with the miserable reward
which in some places they receive, being masters to the children and slaves to their parents.
Fourthly, being grown rich, they grow negligent, and scorn to touch the school but by the
proxy of an usher.  But see how well our
schoolmaster behaves himself.
His genius inclines him with delight to his
profession.  Some men had as lief be schoolboys as schoolmasters, to be tied to the school,
as Cooper's " Dictionary " and Scapula's " Lexicon" are chained to the desk therein; and
though great scholars, and skilful in other arts,




THE GOOD SCHOOLMASTER.        105
are bunglers in this: but God of his goodness
hath fitted several men for several callings, that
the necessity of Church and State in all conditions may be provided for. So that he who beholds the fabric thereof may say, " God hewed
out this stone, and appointed it to lie in this
very place, for it would fit none other so well,
and here it doth most excellent."  And thus
God mouldeth some for a schoolmaster's life,
undertaking it with desire and delight, and discharging it with dexterity and happy success.
He studieth his scholars' natures as carefully
as they their books; and ranks their dispositions
into several forms. And though it may seem
difficult for him in a great school to descend to
all particulars, yet experienced schoolmasters
may quickly make a grammar of boys' natures,
and reduce them all, saving some few exceptions, to these general rules.
1. Those that are ingenious and industrious.
The conjunction of two such planets in a youth
presage much good unto him.  To such a
lad a frown may be a whipping, and a whipping a death; yea, where their master whips
them once, shame whips them all the week
after. Such natures he useth with all gentleness.
2. Those that are ingenious and idle. These
think, with the hare in the fable, that running
with snails (so they count the rest of their




106          THE HOLY STATE.
school-fellows) they shall come soon enough to
the post, though sleeping a good while before
their starting.  Oh, a good rod would finely
take them napping.
3. Those that are dull and diligent. Wines,
the stronger they be, the more lees they have
when they are new. Many boys are muddyheaded till they be clarified with age, and such
afterwards prove the best.  Bristol diamonds
are both bright and squared and pointed by nature, and yet are soft and worthless; whereas,
Orient ones in India are rough and rugged
naturally. Hard, rugged, and dull natures of
youth acquit themselves afterwards the jewels
of the country, and therefore their dulness at
first is to be borne with, if they be diligent.
That schoolmaster deserves to be beaten himself who beats nature in a boy for a fault.
And I question whether all the whipping in
the world can make their parts, which are naturally sluggish, rise one minute before the hour
nature hath appointed.
4. Those that are invincibly dull, and negligent also. Correction may reform the latter,
not amend the former.  All the whetting in
the world can never set a razor's edge on that
which hath no steel in it.  Such boys he consigneth over to other professions. Shipwrights
and boatmakers will choose those crooked pieces
of timber which other carpenters refuse. Those




THE GOOD SCHOOLMASTER.         107
may make excellent merchants and mechanics
which will not serve for scholars.
He is able, diligent, and methodical in his
teaching; not leading them rather in a circle
than forwards.  He minces his precepts for
children to swallow, hanging clogs on the nimbleness of his own soul, that his scholars may
go along with him.
He is, and will be known to be, an absolute
monarch in his school. If cockering mothers
proffer him  money to purchase their sons an
exemption from his rod, (to live as it were in a
peculiar, out of their master's jurisdiction,) with
disdain lie refuseth it, and scorns the late custom in some places of commuting whipping into
money, and ransoming boys from the rod at a
set price.  If le hath a stubborn youth, correction-proof, lie debasetl not his authority by
contesting with him, but faily, if he can, puts
him  away before his obstinacy hath infected
others.
He is moderate in inflicting deserved correction.  Many a schoolmaster better answereth
the name  Tra aorpi/37qs than r'aL8aywyos, rather
tearing his scholars' flesh with whipping than
giving them good education. No wonder if his
scholars hate the Muses, being presented unto
them in the shapes of fiends and furies. Junius
complains de insolenti carnificina of his schoolmaster, by whom conscindebatta? flayris septies




108            THIE HOLY STATE.
aut octies in  dies  singulos.   Yea, hear the
lamentable verses of poor Tusser in his own
life -
"From Paul's I went, to Eton sent,
To learn straightways the Latin phrase,
Where fifty-three stripes given to me
At once I had.
"For fault but small, or none at all,
It came to pass thus beat I was;
See Udal,* see the mercy of thee
To me poor lad."
Such an Orbilius mars more scholars than
he makes: their tyranny hath caused many
tongues to stammer, which spake plain by nature, and whose stuttering at first was nothing
else but fears quavering on their speech at their
master's presence; and whose mauling them
about their heads hath dulled those who, in
quickness, exceeded their master.
He makes his school free to him who sues to
him  in forma paucperis.   And surely learning
is the greatest alms that can be given. But he
is a beast who, because the poor scholar cannot
pay him his wages, pays the scholar in his whipping. Rather are diligent lads to be encouraged with all excitements to learning.   This
minds me of what I have heard concerning
Mr. Bust, that worthy late schoolmaster of
Eton, who would never suffer any wandering
* Nich. Udal, schoolmaster of Eton, in the reign of King
Henry the Eighth.




THE GOOD SCHOOLMASTER.         109
begging scholar (such as justly the statute hath
ranked in the forefront of rogues) to come into
his school, but would thrust him out with earnestness, (however privately charitable unto
him,) lest his schoolboys should be disheartened
from their books by seeing some scholars, after
their studying in the university, preferred to
beggary.
He spoils not a good school to make thereof a
bad college, therein to teach his scholars logic.
For, besides that logic may have an action of
trespass against grammar for encroaching on
her liberties, syllogisms are solecisms taught
in the school, and oftentimes they are forced
afterwards in the university to unlearn the
fumbling skill they had before.
Out of his school he is no whit pedantical in
carriage or discourse; contenting himself to be
rich in Latin, though he cloth not jingle with it
in every company wherein he comes.
To conclude, let this amongst other motives
make schoolmasters careful in their place, that
the eminencies of their scholars have commended the memories of their schoolmasters to
posterity, who otherwise in obscurity had altogether been forgotten. Who had ever heard
of R. Bond, in Lancashire, but for the breeding of learned Aseham, his scholar? or of Hartgrave, in Brundly school, in the same county,
but because he was the first did teach worthy




110          THE HOLY STATE.
Doctor Whitaker? Nor do I honor the memorv
of Mulcaster for anything so much as for his
scholar, that gulf of learning, Bishop Andrews.
This made the Athenians, the day before the
great feast of Theseus, their founder, to sacrifice a rain to the memory of Conidas, his
schoolmaster that first instructed him.
THE GENERAL ARTIST.
KI NOW the general cavil against general
learning is this, that aliyqis in omnibus est
nullus in singulis; he that sips of many arts
drinks of none. However, we must know that
all learning, which is but one grand science,
hath so homogeneal a body, that the parts
thereof do with a mutual service relate to, and
communicate strength and lustre each to other.
Our artist, knowing language to be the key of
learning, thus begins.
His tongue, being but one by nature, he gets
cloven by art and industry. Before the confusion of Babel, all the world was one continent in language; since divided into several
tongues, as several islands.  Grammar is the
ship, by benefit whereof we pass from one to
another, in the learned languages generally
spoken in no country. His mother tongue was




TIHE G1ENERAL ARTIST.       111
like the dull music of a monochord, which, by
study, he turns into the harmony of several
instruments.
He first gaineth skill in the Latin and Greek
tongues. On the credit of the former alone he
may trade in discourse over all Christendom:
but the Greek, though not so generally spoken,
is known with no less profit and more pleasure.
The joints of her compounded words are so
naturally oiled, that they run nimbly on the
tongue; which makes them, though long, never
tedious, because significant. Besides, it is full
and stately in sound: only it pities our artist to
see the vowels therein racked in pronouncing
them, hanging oftentimes one way by their native force, and haled another by their accents
which countermand them.
Hence he proceeds to the Hebrew, the
mother tongue of the world. More pains than
quickness of wit is required to get it, and with
daily exercise he continues it. Apostacy herein
is usual to fall totally from the language by a
little neglect. As for the Arabic, and other
Oriental languages, he rather makes sallies and
incursions into them than any solemn sitting
before them.
Then he applies his study to logic and ethics.
The latter makes a man's soul mannerly and
wise; but as for logic, that is the armory of
reason, furnished with all offensive and de



112          TIIE HOLY STATE.
fensive weapons.  There are syllogisms, long
swords; enthymemes, short daggers; dilemmas, two-edged swords that cut on both sides;
sorites, chain-shot: and for the defensive, distinctions, which are shields; retortions, which
are targets with a pike in the midst of them,
both to defend and oppose.  From hence he
raiseth his studies to the knowledge of physics,
the great hall of nature, and metaphysics, the
closet thereof; and is careful not to wade
therein so far, till, by subtile distinguishing of
notions, he confounds himself.
He is skilful in rhetoric, which gives a speech
color, as logic doth favor, and both together
beauty.  Though some condemn rhetoric as
the mother of lies, speaking more than the
truth in hyperboles, less in her miosis, otherwise in her metaphors, contrary in her ironies,
yet is there excellent use of all these when disposed of with judgment. Nor is he a stranger
to poetry, which is music in words; nor to
music, which is poetry in sound; both excellent sauce, but they have lived and died poor
that made them their meat.
Mathematics he moderately studieth to his
great contentment; using it as ballast for his
soul, yet to fix it, not to stall it; nor suffers he
it to be so unmannerly as to jostle out other
arts.  As for judicial astrology (which. hath
the least judgment in it), this vagrant hath




THE GENERAL ARTIST.         113
been whipped out of all learned corporations.
If our artist lodgeth her in the out-rooms of his
soul for a night or two, it is rather to hear than
believe her relations.
Hence he makes his progress into the study
of history. Nestor, who lived three ages, was
accounted the wisest man in the world. But
the historian may make himself wise by living
as many ages as have passed since the beginning of the world. His books enable him to
maintain discourse, who, besides the stock of
his own experience, may spend on the common
purse of his reading. This directs him in his
life, so that he makes the shipwrecks of others
sea-marks to himself; yea, accidents which
others start from for their strangeness, he welcomes as his wonted acquaintance, having found
precedents for them formerly. Without history
a man's soul is purblind, seeing only the things
which almost touch his eyes.
He is well seen in chronology, without which
history is but a heap of tales. If by the laws
of the land he is counted a natural who hath
not wit enough to tell twenty, or to tell his
age, he shall not pass with me for wise in
learning who cannot tell the age of the world,
and count hundreds of years; I mean, not so
critically as to solve all doubts arising thence,
but that he may be able to give some tolerable
account thereof. He is also acquainted with
8




114          THE HOLY STATE.
cosmography, treating of the world in whole
joints; with chorography, shredding it into
countries; and with topography, mincing it
into particular places.
Thus, taking these sciences in their general
latitude, he hath finished the round circle or
golden ring of the arts; only he keeps a place
for the diamond to be set in: I mean for that
predominant profession of law, physic, divinity,
or state policy, which he intends for his principal calling hereafter.
THE GOOD MERCHANT
IS one who, by his trading, claspeth the
islands to the continent, and one country to
another; an excellent gardener, who makes
England bear wine, and oil, and spices; yea,
herein goes beyond nature in causing that
omnis fert omnia tellus.  He wrongs neither
himself, nor the commonwealth, nor private
chapmen which buy commodities of him. As
for his behavior towards the commonwealth, it
far surpasses my skill to give any rules thereof:
only this I know, that to export things of necessity, and to bring in foreign needless toys,
makes a rich merchant, and a poor kingdom;
for the State loseth her radical moisture, and




THE GOOD MERCHANT.          115
gets little better than sweat in exchange, except the necessaries which are exported be
exceeding plentiful,-which then, though necessary in their own nature, become superfluous
through their abundance. We will content
ourselves to give some general advertisements
concerning his behavior towards his chapmen;
whom he useth well in the quantity, quality,
and price of the commodities he sells them.
He wrongs not the buyer in number, weight,
or measure. These are the landmarks of all
trading, which must not be removed; for such
cozenage were worse than open felony. First,
because they rob a man of his purse, and never
bid him  stand.  Secondly, because highway
thieves defy, but these pretend justice. Thirdly, as much as lies in their power, they endeavor to make God accessary to their cozenage, deceiving by pretending his weights. For
God is the principal clerk of the market: " all
the weights of the bag are his work." Prov.
xvi. 11.
He never warrants any ware for good but
what is so indeed. Otherwise he is a thief,
and may be a murderer, if selling such things as
are applied inwardly. Besides, in such a case,
he counts himself guilty if he selleth such
wares as are bad, though without his knowledge, if avouching them for good; because he
may, professeth, and is bound to be master in




116          THE HIOLY STATE.
his own mystery, and therefore in conscience
must recompense the buyer's loss, except he
gives him an item to buy it at his own adventure.
He either tells the faults in his ware, or
abates proportionably in the price he demands;
for then the low value shows the viciousness of
it. Yet, commonly, when merchants depart
with their commodities, we hear (as in funeral
orations) all the virtues but none of the faults
thereof.
He never demands out of distance of the price
he intends to take: if not always within the
touch, yet within the reach of what he means
to sell for. Now, we must know there be four
several prices of vendible things.  First, the
price of the market, which ebbs and flows according to the plenty or scarcity of coin, commodities, and chapmen.  Secondly, the price
of friendship, which perchance is more giving
than selling, and therefore not so proper at
this time.  Thirdly, the price of fancy, as
twenty pounds or more for a dog or hawk,
when no such inherent worth can naturally be
in them, but by the buyer's and seller's fancy
reflecting on them. Yet I believe the money
may be lawfully taken. First, because the seller
sometimes on those terms is as loath to forego it as the buyer is willing to have it; and I
know no standard herein whereby men's affec



THIE GOOD JIERCHANT.        117
tions may be measured. Secondly, it being a
matter of pleasure, and men able and willing,
let them  pay for it: volenti non fit injuria.
Lastly, there is the price of cozenage, which
our merchant from his heart detests and abhors.
He makes not advantage of his chapman's
ignorance, chiefly if referring himself to his
honesty; where the seller's conscience is all
the buyer's skill, who makes him both seller
and judge, so that he doth not so much ask as
order what he must pay. When one told old
Bishop Latimer that the cutler had cozened
him in making him pay twopence for a knife
not (in those days) worth a penny, — " No,"
quoth Latimier, "he cozened not me, but his
own conscience." On the other side, St. Augustine tells us of a seller who out of ignorance asked for a book far less than it was
worth, and the buyer (conceive himself to be
the man if you please) of his own accord gave
him the full value thereof.
He makes not the buyer pay the shot for his
prodigality; as when the merchant, through
his own ignorance or ill husbandry, hath bought
dear, he will not bring in his unnecessary expenses on the buyer's score; and in such a case
he is bound to sell cheaper than he bought.
Selling by retail, he may justify the taking
of greater gain; because of his care, pains, and




118         THE HOLY S TATE.
cost of fetching those wares from the fountain,
and in parcelling and dividing them. Yet, because retailers trade commonly with those who
have least skill what they buy, and commonly
sell to the poorer sort of people, they must be
careful not to grate on their necessity.
But how long shall I be retailing out rules
to this merchant? It would employ a casuist
an apprenticeship of years: take our Saviour's
wholesale rule, "Whatsoever ye would have
men do unto you, do you unto them; for this
is the Law and the Prophets."
THE GOOD YEOMAN.
IS a gentleman in ore, whom the next age
may see refined; and is the wax capable of
a gentle impression, when the prince shall
stamp it. Wise Solon (who accounted Tellus
the Athenian the most happy man for living
privately on his own lands) would surely have
pronounced the English yeomanry a fortunate
condition, living in the temperate zone, betwixt
greatness and want,-an estate of people almost
peculiar to England. France and Italy are
like a die which hath no points between cinq
and ace, nobility and peasantry. Their walls,
though high, must needs be hollow, wanting




THE GOOD YEOMAN.           119
filling-stones. Indeed, Germany hath her boors,
like our yeomen, but, by a tyrannical appropriation of nobility to some few ancient families,
their yeomen are excluded from ever rising
higher to clarify their bloods. In England the
temple of honor is bolted against none who
have passed through the temple of virtue; nor
is a capacity to be gentle denied to our yeoman who thus behaves himself.
He wears russet clothes, but makes golden
payment, having tin in his buttons, and silver
in his pocket.  If he chance to appear in
clothes above his rank, it is to grace some
great man with his service, and then he blusheth at his own bravery. Otherwise, he is the
surest landmark, whence foreigners may take
aim of the ancient English customs; the gentry more floating after foreign fashions.
In his house he is bountiful both to strangers
and poor people. Some hold, when hospitality died in England, she gave her last groan
amongst the yeomen of Kent. And still at our
yeoman's table you shall have as many joints
as dishes: no meat disguised with strange
sauces; no straggling joint of a sheep in the
midst of a pasture of grass, beset with sallads
on every side; but solid substantial food: no
servitors (more nimble with their hands than
the guests with their teeth) take away meat
before stomachs are taken away. Here you




120          THE HOLY STATE.
have that which in itself is good, made better
by the store of it, and best by the welcome
to it.
He hath a great stroke in making a knight
of the shire.  Good reason; for he makes a
whole line in the subsidy book, where whatsoever he is rated he pays, without any regret,
not caring how much his purse is let blood, so
it be done by the advice of the physicians of
the state.
He seldom goes far abroad, and his credit
stretcheth further than his travel. He goes
not to London, but se defendendo, to save himself of a fine, being returned of a jury, where,
seeing the king once, he prays for him ever
afterwards.
In his own country he is a main man in
juries, where, if the judge please to open his
eyes in matter of law, he needs not be led by'the nose in matters of fact. He is very observant of the judge's " item," when it follows
the truth's imprimis; otherwise, (though not
mutinous in a jury,) he cares not whom he
displeaseth, so lie pleaseth his own conscience.
He improveth his land to a double value by
his good husbandry. Some grounds that wept
with water, or frowned with thorns, by draining
the one and clearing the other, he makes both
to laugh and sing with corn. By marl and
limestones burnt, he bettereth his ground, and




THE GOOD YEOMAN.          121
his industry worketh miracles by turning stones
into bread.  Conquest and good husbandry
both enlarge the king's dominions: the one by
the sword, making the acres more in number;
the other by the plough, making the same acres
more in value. Solomon saith, " The king himself is maintained by husbandry." Pythis, a
king, having discovered rich mines in his kingdom, employed all his people in digging of
them, whence tilling was wholly neglected, insomuch as a great famine ensued. His queen,
sensible of the calamities of the country, invited the king her husband to dinner, as he
came home hungry from overseeing his workmen in the mines. She so contrived it that
the bread and meat were most artificially made
of gold; and the king was much delighted with
the conceit thereof, till at last he called for real
meat to satisfy his hunger. " Nay," said the
queen, "if you employ all your subjects in
your mines, you must expect to feed upon gold;
for nothing else can your kingdom afford."
In time of famine, he is the Joseph of the
country, and keeps the poor from starving.
Then he tameth his stacks of corn, which not
his covetousness but providence hath reserved
for time of need, and to his poor neighbors
abateth somewhat of the high price of the
market. The neighbor gentry court him for
his acquaintance, which either he modestly




122          THE HOLY STATE.
waveth, or thankfully accepteth, but no way
greedily desireth.  He insults not on the ruins
of a decayed gentleman, but pities and relieves
him; and as he is called "good man," he desires to answer to the name, and to be so indeed.
In war, though he serveth on foot, he is ever
mounted on a high spirit; as being a slave to
none, and a subject only to his own prince.
Innocence and independence make a brave
spirit: whereas otherwise one must ask his
leave to be valiant on whom he depends.
Therefore, if a state run up all to noblemen
and gentlemen, so that the husbandmen be
only mere laborers, or cottagers, (which one
calls but housed beggars,) it may have good
cavalry, but never good bands of foot; so that
their armies will be like those birds called
apodes, without feet, always only flying on
their wings of horse.  Wherefore, to make
good infantry, it requireth men bred, not in a
servile or indigent fashion, but in some free
and plentiful manner. Wisely, therefore, did
that knowing prince, King Henry the Seventh,
provide laws for the increase of his yeomanry,
that his kingdom should not be like to coppicewoods, where, the staddles being left too thick,
111 runs to bushes and briers, and there is little
-lean underwood. For, enacting that houses
ased to husbandry should be kept up with a




THE HANDICRAFTSMAN.         123
competent proportion of land, he did secretly
sow hydra's teeth, whereupon (according to
the poet's fiction) should rise up armed men
for the service of this kingdom.
THE HANDICRAFTSMAN.
HE is a necessary member in a commonwealth; for though nature, which hath
armed most other creatures, sent man naked
into the world, yet in giving him hands and
wit to use them, in effect she gave him shells,
scales, paws, claws, horns, tusks, with all offensive and defensive weapons of beasts, fish, and
fowl, which, by the help of his hands, in imitation he may provide for himself; and herein
the skill of our artisan doth consist.
His trade is such whereby he provides things
necessary for mankind. What St. Paul saith
of the natural, is also true of the politic body:
those members of the body are much more
necessary which seem  most feeble.  Mean
trades for profit are most necessary in the
State, and a house may better want a gallery
than a kitchen.  The Philistines knew  this
when they massacred all the smiths in Israel,
who might worse be spared than all the usurers
therein, and whose hammers nail the common



124          THE HOLY STATE.
wealth together, being necessary both in peace
and war.
Or else his trade contributeth to man's lawfill pleasure. God is not so hard a master but
that he alloweth his servants sauce (besides
hunger) to eat with their meat.
But in no case will he be of such a trade
which is a mere pander to man's lust, and only
serves their wantonness (which is pleasure run
stark mad) and foolish curiosity. Yet are there
too many extant of such professions, which, one
would think, should stand in daily fear lest the
world should turn wise, and so all their trades
be cashiered, but that (be it spoken to their
shame)'t is as safe a tenure to hold a livelihood
by men's riot as by their necessity.
The wares he makes show good to the eye,
but prove better in the use.  For he knows
if he sets his mark (the Tower-stamp of his
credit) on any bad wares, he sets a deeper
brand on his own conscience.  Nothing hath
more debased the credit of our English cloth
beyond the seas than the deceitfulness in making them, since the fox hath crept under the
fleece of the sheep.
By his ingeniousness he leaves his art better
than he found it.  Herein the Hollanders are
excellent, where children get their living, when
but newly they have gotten their life, by their
industry. Indeed, nature may seem to have




THE IHANDICRAFTSMAN.        125
made those Netherlanders the younger brethren of mankind, allowing them little land, and
that also standing in daily fear of a deluge of
the sea: but such is their painfulness and ingenuity, hating laziness as much as they love liberty, that what commodities grow not on their
country by nature, they graft on it by art, and
have wonderfully improved all making of manufactures, stuffs, clocks, watches.  These latter
at first were made so great and heavy, it was
rather a burden than an ornament to wear
them; though since, watches have been made
as light and little as many that wear them
make of their time.
He is willing to communicate his skill to posterity. An invention, though found, is lost if
not imparted. But as it is reported of some
old toads, that before their death they suck up
the jelly in their own heads (which otherwise
would be hardened into a precious stone) out
of spite, that men should receive no benefit
thereby, so some envious artisans will have
their cunning die with them, that none may be
the better for it, and had rather all mankind
should lose than any man gain by them.
He seldom attaineth to any very great estate: except his trade hath some outlets and
excursions into wholesale and merchandise;
otherwise mere artificers cannot heap up much
wealth.  It is difficult for gleaners, without




126          THE HOLY STATE.
stealing whole sheaves, to fill a barn.  His
chief wealth consisteth in enough, and that he
can live comfortably, and leave his children the
inheritance of their education.
Yet he is a grand benefactor to the commonwealth. England, in former ages, like a dainty
dame, partly out of state, but more out of laziness, would not suckle the fruit of her own
body, to make the best to battle and improve
her own commodities, but put them out to
nurse to the Netherlanders, who were well
paid for their pains. In those days, the sword
and the plough so took up all men's employments that clothing was wholly neglected, and
scarce any other webs to be found in houses
than what the spiders did make. But since,
she hath seen and mended her error, making
the best use of her own wool; and indeed the
riches of a kingdom doth consist in driving the
home commodities thereof as far as they will
go, working them to their very perfection, employing more handicrafts thereby. The sheep
feeds more with his fleece than his flesh, doing
the one but once, but the other once a year,
many families subsisting by the working thereof.
We have cause to hope, that, as we have seen
the cities Dornicks and Arras brought over
into England, so posterity may see all Flanders
brought hither; I mean that their works shall
be here imitated, and that either our land shall




THE GOOD SOLDIER.         127
be taught to bear foreign commodities, or our
people taught to forbear the using of them.
I should now come to give the description
of the day-laborer, (of whom we have only a
dearth in a plentiful harvest,) but seeing his
character is so coincident with the hired servant, it may well be spared. And now we will
rise from the hand to the arm, and come to
describe the soldier.
THE GOOD SOLDIER.
A SOLDIER is one of a lawful, necessary,
commendable, and honorable profession;
yea, God himself may seem to be one free of
the company of soldiers, in that he styleth himself " a man of war." Now, though many hate
soldiers as the twigs of the rod war, wherewith
God scourgeth wanton countries into repentance, yet is their calling so needful, that were
not some soldiers we must be all soldiers, daily
employed to defend our own, the world would
grow so licentious.
He keepeth a clear and quiet conscience in
his breast, which otherwise will gnaw out the
roots of all valor; for vicious soldiers are compassed with enemies on all sides, their foes without them, and an ambush within them of fleshly




128          TITHE HIOLY STA TE.
lusts, vwhich, as St. Peter saith, "fight against
the soul." None fitter to go to war than those
who have made their peace with God in Christ;
for such a man's soul is an impregnable fort:
it cannot be scaled with ladders, for it reacheth
up to heaven; nor be broken by batteries, for
it is walled with brass; nor undermined by
pioneers, for he is founded on a rock; nor betrayed by treason, for faith itself keeps it; nor
be burnt by grenadoes, for he can quench the
fiery darts of the devil; nor be forced by
famine, for a good conscience is a continual
feast.
He chiefly avoids those sins to which soldiers
are taxed as most subject: namely, common
swearing, which impaireth one's credit by degrees, and maketh all his promises not to be
trusted; for he who for no profit will sin
against God, for small profit will trespass
against his neighbor; and drinking.  When
valiant Zisca, near Pilsen, in Bohemia, fought
against his enemies, he commanded the women
which followed his army to cast their kerchiefs
and partlets on the ground, wherein their enemies, being entangled by their spurs, (for,
though horsemen, they were forced to alight
and fight on foot, through the roughness of the
place,) were slain before they could unloose
their feet.  A  deep moral may be gathered
hence; and women have often been the nets to




THE GOOD SOLDIER.           129
catch and ensnare the souls of many martial
men.
He counts his prince's lawful command to be
his sufficient warrant to fight.  In a defensive
war, when his country is hostilely invaded,'t is
pity but his neck should hang in suspense with
his conscience that doubts to fight; in offensive
war, though the case be harder, the common
soldier is not to dispute, but do his prince's
command. Otherwise princes, before they levy
an army of soldiers, must first levy an army of
casuists and confessors to satisfy each scrupulous soldier in point of right to the war; and
the most cowardly will be the most conscientious to multiply doubts eternally.  Besides,
causes of war are so complicated and perplexed,
so many things falling in the prosecution as
may alter the original state thereof; and private
soldiers have neither calling nor ability to dive
into such mysteries.  But if the conscience
of a counsellor or commander-in-chief remonstrates in himself the unlawfulness of this war,
he is bound humbly to represent to his prince
his reasons against it.
He esteemeth all hardship easy through hopes
of victory. Moneys are the sinews of war; yet
if these sinews should chance to be shrunk, and
pay casually fall short, he takes a fit of this
convulsion patiently. He is contented, though
in cold weather his hands must be their own
9




130          THE HOLY STATE.
fire, and warm themselves with working;
though he be better armed against their enemies than the weather, and his corselet wholler
than his clothes; though he hath more fasts and
vigils in his almanac than the Romish Church
did ever enjoin: he patiently endureth drought
for desire of honor, and one thirst quencheth
another. In a word, though much indebted to
his own back and belly, and unable to pay them,
yet he hath credit himself, and confidently runs
on ticket with himself, hoping the next victory
will discharge all scores with advantage.
He looks at and also through his wages, at
God's glory, and his country's good. He counts
his pay an honorable addition, but no valuable
compensation for his pains; for what proportion
is there betwixt four shillings a week and adventuring his life? I cannot see how their calling can be lawful, who, for greater wages, will
fight on any side against their own king and
cause; yea, as false witnesses were hired
against our blessed Saviour, (money will make
the mouths of men plead against their Maker,)
so were the giants now in the world, who, as
the poets feigned, made war against God himself, and should they offer great pay, they would
not want mercenary soldiers to assist them.
He attends with all readiness on the commands of his general; rendering up his own
judgment in obedience to the will and pleasure




THE GOOD SOLDIER.          131
of his leader, and by an implicit faith believing
all is best which he enjoineth; lest otherwise
he be served as the French soldier was in Scotland, some eighty years since, who first mounted
the bulwark of a fort besieged, whereupon ensued the gaining of the fort: but Marescal de
Thermes, the French general, first knighted
him, and then hanged him within an hour
after, because he had done it without commandment.
He will not in a bravery expose himself to
needless peril.'T is madness to halloo in the
ears of sleeping temptation, to awaken it against
one's self, or to go out of his calling to find a
danger: but if a danger meets him (as he walks
in his vocation), he neither stands still, starts
aside, nor steps backward, but either goes over
it with valor, or under it with patience. All
single duels he detesteth, as having, first, no
command in God's word; yea, this arbitrary
deciding causes by the sword subverts the fundamental laws of the Scripture: secondly, no
example in God's word, that of David and Goliath moving in an higher sphere, as extraordinary: thirdly, it tempts God to work a miracle
for man's pleasure, and to invert the course of
nature, whereby otherwise the stronger will
beat the weaker: fourthly, each dueller challengeth his king as unable or unwilling legally
to right him, and therefore he usurps the office




132          THE HOLY STATE.
himself: fifthly, if slaying, he hazards his neck
to the halter; if slain, in heat of malice, without repentance, he adventures his soul to the
devil.
Object. But there are some intricate cases (as
in titles of land), which cannot otherwise be
decided. Seeing, therefore, that in such difficulties the right in question cannot be delivered
by any judicial proceedings, then it must be
determined by the sword.
Answ. Such a right may better be lost than
to light a candle from hell to find it out, if the
judges cannot find a middle way to part it
betwixt them. Besides, in such a case, duels
are no medium proportionatum  to find out the
truth, as never appointed by God to that purpose. Nor doth it follow that he hath the best
in right who hath the best in fight; for he that
reads the lawfulness of actions by their events
holds the wrong end of the book upwards.
Object. But suppose an army of thirty thousand infidels ready to fight against ten thousand
Christians, yet so that at last the infidels are
contented to try the day upon the valor of a
single champion; whether in such a case may
not a Christian undertake to combat with him,
the rather because the treble odds before is
thereby reduced to terms of equality, and so
the victory is made more probable.
Answ. The victory was more probable be



THlE GOOD SOLDIER.         133
fore; because it is more likely God will bless
his own means, than means of man's appointing; and it is his prerogative to give victory,
as well by few as by many. Probability of
conquest is not to be measured by the eye of
human reason, contrary to the square of God's
word. Besides, I question whether it be lawful for a Christian army to derive their right
of fighting God's battles to any single man.
For the title every man hath to promote God's
glory is so invested and inherent in his own
particular person, that he cannot pass it over
to another. None may appear in God's service
by an attorney; and when religion is at the
stake, there must be no lookers-on (except impotent people, who also help by their prayers),
and every one is bound to lay his shoulders to
the work.  Lastly, would to God no duels
might be fought till this case came into question. But how many daily fall out upon a
more false, slight, and flitting ground than the
sands of Calais whereon they fight: especially,
seeing there is an honorable court appointed,
or some other equivalent way, for taking up
such quarrels, and allowing reparations to the
party injured.
Object. But reputation is so spiritual a thing,
it is inestimable, and honor falls not under valuation: besides, to complain to the civil magistrate showeth no manhood, but is like a child's




134          THE HOLY STATE.
crying to his father, when he is only beaten by
his equal; and my enemy's forced acknowledgment of his fault (enjoined him by the court)
shows rather his submission to the laws than to
me. But if I can civilize his rudeness by my
sword, and chastise him into submission, then
he sings his penitential song in the true tune,
and it comes naturally indeed.
Answ. Honorable persons in that court are
the most competent judges of honor; and
though credit be as tender as the apple of
the eye, yet such curious oculists can cure a
blemish therein. And why, I pray, is it more
disgrace to repair to the magistrate for redress
in reputation than to have recourse to him in
actions of trespass? The pretence of a forced
submission is nothing, all submissions having
aliquid violentum in them; and even the evangelical repentance of God's servants hath a
mixture of legal terror frighting them thereto.
Object. But gownmen speak out of an antipathy they bear to fighting: should we be
ruled by them, we must break all our swords
into penknives; and lawyers, to enlarge their
gains, send prohibitions to remove suits from
the camps to their courts; divines are not to
be consulted with herein, as ignorant of the
principles of honor.
Answ. Indeed, honor is a word of course in
the talk of roaring boys, and pure enough in




THL' GOOD SOLDIER.         135
itself, except their mouths soil it by often using
of it: but indeed God is the fountain of honor,
God's word the charter of honor, and godly
men the best judges of it; nor is it any stain
of cowardliness for one to fear hell and damnation.
We may therefore conclude that the laws of
duelling, as the laws of drinking, had their
original from the devil; and therefore the declining of needless quarrels in our soldier, no
abatement of honor. I commend his discretion and valor, who, walking in London streets,
met a gallant, who cried to him a pretty distance beforehand, "'I will have the wall."
" Yea," answered he, " and take the house
too, if you can but agree with the landlord."
But when God, and his prince, calls for him,
our soldier
Had rather die ten times than once survive
his credit. Though life be sweet, it shall not
flatter the palate of his soul, as with the sweetness of life to make him swallow down the bitterness of an eternal disgrace. He begrudgeth
not to get to his side a probability of victory
by the certainty of his own death, and flieth
from nothing so much as from the mention of
flying. And though some say he is a madman,
that will purchase honor so dearly with his
blood as that he cannot live to enjoy what he
hath bought, our soldier knows that he shall




136          THE HOLY STATE.
possess the reward of his valor with God in
heaven, and also making the world his executor, leave to it the rich inheritance of his
memory.
Yet in some cases he counts it no disgrace
to yield, where it is impossible to conquer; as
when swarms of enemies crowd about him, so
that he shall rather be stifled than wounded to
death: in such a case, if quarter be offered
him, he may take it with more honor than
the other can give it; and if he throws up his
desperate game, he may happily win the next;
whereas, if he playeth it out to the last, he
shall certainly lose it and himself. But if he
be to fall into the hand of a barbarous enemy,
whose giving him quarter is but reprieving
him for a more ignominious death, he had
rather disburse his life at the present than
to take day to fall into the hands of such
remorseless creditors.
He makes none the object of his cruelty,
which cannot be the object of his fear. Lions,
they say, (except forced with hunger,) will not
prey on women and children, though I would
wish none to try the'truth hereof: the truly
valiant will not hurt women or infants, nor will
they be cruel to old men.  What conquest is it
to strike him up, who stands but on one leg,
and hath the other foot in the grave?  But
arrant cowards (such as would conquer victory




THE GOOD SOLDIER.          137
itself, if it should stand in their way as they
fly) count themselves never evenly matched
except they have threefold odds on their side,
and esteem their enemy never disarmed till
they be dead.  Such love to show a nature
steeped in gall of passion, and display the
ignoble tyranny of prevailing dastards: these
being thus valiant against no resistance, will
make no resistance when they meet with true
valor.
He counts it murder to kill any in cold blood
Indeed, in taking cities by assault (especially
when soldiers have suffered long in a hard
siege), it is pardonable what present passion
doth with a sudden thrust; but a premeditated
back-blow in cold blood is base. Some excuse
there is for blood enraged, and no wonder if
that scaldeth which boileth; but when men
shall call a consultation in their soul, and issue
thence a deliberate act, the more advised the
deed is, the less advised it is, when men raise
their own passions, and are not raised by them;
especially if fair quarter be first granted; an
alms which he who gives to-day may crave tomorrow; yea, he that hath the hilt in his hand
in the morning may have the point at his
throat ere night.
He doth not barbarously abuse the bodies of
his dead enemies. W. e find that Hercules was
the first (the most valiant are ever the most




138          THE HOLY STATE.
merciful) that ever suffered his enemies to
carry away their dead bodies after they had
been put to the sword. Belike, before his time
they cruelly cut the corpses in pieces, or cast
them to the wild beasts.
In time of plenty he provides for want hereafter. Yet, generally, soldiers (as if they counted one treasurer in an army were enough) so
hate covetousness that they cannot affect providence for the future, and come home with more
marks in their bodies than pence in their pockets.
He is willing and joyful to embrace peace
on good conditions. The procreation of peace,
and not the satisfying of men's lusts and liberties, is the end of war.  Yet how many, having war for their possession, desire a perpetuity
thereof!  Wiser men than King Henry the
Eighth's fool, use to cry in fair weather, whose
harvest being only in storms, they themselves
desire to raise them; wherefore fearing peace
will starve whom war hath fatted, and to render themselves the more useful, they prolong
discord to the utmost, and could wish when
swords are once drawn that all scabbards
might be cut asunder.
He is as quiet and painful in peace as courageous in war. If he hath not gotten already
enough whereon comfortably to subsist, he rebetakes himself to his former calling he had




THE GOOD GENERAL.          139
before the war began: the wielding of his
sword hath not made him unwieldy to do any
other work, and put his bones out of joint to
take pains. Hence comes it to pass that some
take by-courses on the highways, and death,
whom they honorably fought for in the field,
meets them in a worse place.
But we leave our soldier, seeking by his virtues to ascend from a private place, by the
degrees of sergeant, lieutenant, captain, colonel,
till he come to be a general, and then, God
willing, you shall have his example.
THE GOOD GENERAL.
THE soldier, whom we formerly described,
hath since, by the stairs of his own deserts,
climbed up to be a general, and now we come
to character him.
He is pious in the ordering of his own life.
Some falsely conceive that religion spoileth the
spirit of a general, as bad as a rainy day doth
his plume of feathers, making it droop and
hang down; whereas, indeed, piety only begets true prowess.
He acknowledgeth God the Generalissimo
of all armies, who in all battles, though the
number be never so unequal, reserves the cast



140          THEE HOLY STATE.
ing voice for himself.  Yet can I scarce believe what one tells us, how Walter Pletemberg, master of the Teutonic Order, with a
small number slew in a battle an hundred thousand Muscovite enemies, with the loss of but
one man on his side.
He hath gained skill in his place by long experience; not beginning to lead others, before
himself ever knew to follow, having never before (except in cock-matches) beheld any battles. Surely they leap best in their providence
forward who fetch their rise farthest backward
in their experience.
He either is, or is presumed valiant. Indeed,
courage in him is necessary, though some think
that a general is above valor who may command others to be so. As if it were all one
whether courage were his naturally, or by
adoption, who can make the valiant deeds of
others seem his own; and his reputation for
personal manhood, once raised, will bear itself
up; like a round body, some force is required
to set it, but a touch will keep it, agoing. Indeed, it is extreme indiscretion (except in extremities) for him to be prodigal of his person.
He is cheerful and willing in undergoing of
labor. Admirable are the miracles of an industrious army: witness the mighty ditch in
Cambridgeshire, made by the East-Angles, commonly called Devil's Ditch, as if the pioneers




TE, GOOD GENERAL.          141
thereof came from hell. Thus the effeminateness of our age, defaming what it should imitate, falsely traduces the monuments of their
ancestors' endeavors.
He loves, and is beloved of his soldiers;
whose good will he attaineth,
1. By giving them good words in his speeches unto them. When wages have sometimes
accidentally fallen short, soldiers have accepted
the payment in the fair language and promises
of their general.
2. By partaking with his soldiers in their
painful employments. When the English, at
the Spanish fleet's approach in eighty-eight,
drew their ships out of Plymouth haven, the
Lord Admiral Howard himself towed a cable,
the least joint of whose exemplary hand drew
more than twenty men besides.
3. By sharing with them in their wants.
When victuals have grown scant, some generals have pinched themselves to the same fare
with their soldiers, who could not complain that
their mess was bad whilst their general was
fellow-commoner with them.
4. By taking notice, and rewarding of their
deserts; never disinheriting a worthy soldier
of his birthright, of the next office due unto
him. For a worthy man is wounded more
deeply by his own general's neglect than by
his enemy's sword; the latter may kill him, but




142          THE HOLY STATE.
the former deads his courage, or, which is
worse, mads it into discontent; who had rather
others should make a ladder of his dead corpse
to scale a city by it, than a bridge of him
whilst alive for his punies to give him the goby, and pass over him to preferment. For this
reason chiefly (besides some others), a great
and valiant English general in the days of
Queen Elizabeth was hated of his soldiers, because he disposed offices by his own absolute
will, without respect of orderly advancing such
as deserved it, which'made a great man once
salute him with this letter: "Sir, if you will
be pleased to bestow a captain's place on the
bearer hereof, being a worthy gentleman, he
shall do that for you which never as yet any
soldier did, namely, pray to God for your
health and happiness."
He is fortunate in what he undertakes.
Such a one was Julius Coesar, who, in Britain,
a country undiscovered, peopled with a valiant
nation, began a war in autumn, without apparent advantage, not having any intelligence
there, being to pass over the sea into a colder
climate, (an enterprise, saith one, well worthy
the invincible courage of Coesar, but not of his
accustomed prudence,) and yet returned victorious. Indeed, God is the sole disposer of success; other gifts he also scattereth amongst
men, yet so that they themselves scramble to




THE G OOD GENERAL.         143
gather them up; whereas success God gives
immediately into their hands on whom he
pleaseth to bestow it.
He trieth the forces of a new enemy before
he encounters him. Samson is half conquered
when it is known where his strength lies; and
skirmishes are scouts for the discovery of the
strength of an army before battle be given.
He makes his flying enemy a bridge of gold,
and disarms them of their best weapon, which
is, necessity to fight whether they will or no.
Men forced to a battle against their intention
often conquer beyond their expectation. Stop
a flying coward, and he will turn his legs into
arms, and lay about him manfully; whereas,
open him a passage to escape, and he will
quickly shut up his courage.
But I dare dwell no longer on this subject.
When the Pope earnestly wrote to King Richard the First not to detain in prison his dear
son, the martial bishop of Beauvais, the king
sent the Pope back the armor wherein the
bishop was taken with the words of Jacob's
sons to their father, "See whether or no this
be the coat of thy son." Surely, a corselet is
no canonical coat for me, nor suits it with my
clergy-profession to proceed any further in this
warlike description.




144          THE HOLY STATE.
THE GOOD SEA-CAPTAIN.
IS military part is concurrent with that of
the soldier already described: he differs
only in some sea properties, which we will now
set down. Conceive him now in a man-of-war,
with his letters of mart, well armed,victualled,
and appointed, and see how he acquits himself.
The more power he hath, the more careful
he is not to abuse it. Indeed, a sea-captain is
a king in the island of a ship, supreme judge,
above appeal, in causes civil and criminal, and
is seldom brought to an account in courts of
justice on land for injuries done to his own
men at sea.
He is careful in observing of the Lord's day.
He hath a watch in his heart, though no bells
in a steeple to proclaim that day by ringing to
prayers.  Sir Francis Drake, in three years'
sailing about the world, lost one whole day,
which was scarce considerable in so long time.'T is to be feared some captains at sea lose a
day every week, one in seven, neglecting the
Sabbath.
He is as pious and thankful when a tempest
is past, as devout when't is present; not clamorous to receive mercies, and tongue-tied to
return thanks. Many mariners are calm in a
storm, and storm in a calm, blustering with




THE GOOD SEA-CAPTATfA        145
oaths. In a tempest it comes to their turn to
be religious, whose piety's but a fit of the
wind, and when that is allayed, their devotion
is ended.
Escaping many dangers makes him not presumptuous to run into them. Not like those
seamen who (as if their hearts were made of
those rocks they have often sailed by) are so
always in death they never think of it. These
in their navigations observe that it is far hotter under the tropics in the coming to the line
than under the line itself; and in like manner
they conceive that the fear and fancy in preparing for death is more terrible than death
itself, which makes them by degrees desperately
to contemn it.
In taking a prize he most prizeth the men's
lives whom he takes, though some of them
may chance to be negroes or savages.  It is
the custom of some to cast them overboard, and
there's an end of them; for the dumb fishes
will tell no tales. But the murder is not so
soon drowned as the men. What! is a brother
by half-blood no kin? A savage hath God to
his father by creation, though not the Church
to his mother, and God will revenge his innocent blood. But our captain counts the image
of God nevertheless his image, cut in ebony as
if done in ivory, and in the blackest Moors he
sees the representation of the King of Heaven.
10




146           THE HOLY STATE.
In dividing the gains, he wrongs none who
took pains to get them; not shifting off his poor
mariners with nothing, or giving them only the
garbage of the prize, and keeping all the flesh
to himself. In time of peace, he quietly returns home, and turns not to the trade of
pirates, who are the worst sea-vermin, and the
devil's water-rats.
His voyages are not only for profit, but some
for honor and knowledge; to make discoveries
of new countries, imitating the worthy Peter
Columbus. Before his time the world was cut
off at the middle, Hercules' Pillars (which indeed are the navel) being made the feet and
utmost bounds of the continent, till his successful industry enlarged it.'" Primus ab infusis quod terra emerserat undis
Nuncius adveniens ipsa columba fuit.,Occiduis primus qui terram invenit in undis
Nuncius adveniens ipse Columbus erat."
Our sea-captain is likewise ambitious to perfect what the other began. He counts it a disgrace, seeing all mankind is one family, sundry
countries but several rooms, that we who dwell
in the parlor (so he counts Europe) should not
know the outlodgings of the same house, and
the world be scarce acquainted with itself before it be dissolved from itself at the day of
judgment.
He daily sees and duly considers God's won



THE GOOD SEA-CAPTAIN.         147
ders in the deep. Tell me, ye naturalists, Who
sounded the first march and retreat to the tide,
"hither shalt thou come, and no further "?
Why doth not the water recover his right over
the earth, being higher in nature? Whence
came the salt, and who first boiled it, which
made so much brine? When the winds are
not only wild in a storm, but even stark mad
in a hurricane, who is it that restores them
again to their wits, and brings them asleep in a
calm?  Who made the mighty whales, who
swim in a sea of water, and have a sea of oil
swimming in them? Who first taught the
waters to imitate the creatures on land? so
that the sea is the stable of horse-fishes, the
stall of kine-fishes, the sty of hog-fishes, the
kennel of dog-fishes, and in all things the sea
the ape of the land. Whence grows the ambergris in the sea? which is not so hard to find
where it is as to know what it is. Was not
God the first shipwright? and all vessels on
the water descended from the loins (or ribs
rather) of Noah's ark?   Or else who durst
be so bold, with a few crooked boards nailed
together, a stick standing upright, and a rag
tied to it, to adventure into the ocean? What
loadstone first touched the loadstone? or how
first fell it in love with the north, rather affecting that cold climate than the pleasant east, or
fruitful south, or west? How comes that stone




148          TIIE  OL Y STATE.
to know more than men, and find the way
to the land in a mist?  In most of these,
men take sanctuary at occulta q(ualitas, and
complain that the room  is dark, when their
eyes are blind. Indeed, they are God's wonders; and that seaman the greatest wonder of
all for his blockishness, who, seeing them daily,
neither takes notice of them, admires at them,
nor is thankful for them.
THE TRUE GENTLEMAN.
TE will consider him in his birth, breeding,
and behavior.
He is extracted from ancient and worshipful
parentage. When a pippin is planted on a pippin-stock, the fruit growing thence is called a
renate, a most delicious apple, as both by sire
and dam  well descended.   Thus his blood
must needs be well purified who is gentilely
born on both sides.
If his birth be not, at least his qualities are
generous.  What if he cannot with the Hevenninghams of Suffolk count five-and-twenty
knights of his family, or tell sixteen knights
successively with the Tilneys of Norfolk, or
with the Nauntons show where their ancestors
had seven hundred pounds a year before or at




TJll] TR UllE GEVNTLE'MAN.  149
the Conquest; yet he hath endeavored, by his
own deserts, to ennoble himself. Thus valor
makes him son to Caesar, learning entitles him
kinsman to Tully, and piety reports him nephew
to godly Constantine.  It graceth a gentleman
of low descent and high desert, when he will
own the meanness of his parentage.  How
ridiculous is it when many men brag that their
families are more ancient than the moon, which
all know are later -than the star which some
seventy years since shined in Cassiopea.  But
if he be generously born, see how his parents
breed him.
He is not in his youth possessed with the
great hopes of his possession.  No flatterer
reads constantly in his ears a survey of the
lands he is to inherit.  This hath made many
boys' thoughts swell so great they could never
be kept in compass afterwards. Only his parents acquaint him that he is the next undoubted
heir to correction, if misbehaving himself; and
he finds no more favor from his schoolmaster
than his schoolmaster finds diligence in him,
whose rod respects persons no more than bullets are partial in a battle.
At the university he is so studious as if he
intended learning for his profession. He knows
well that cunning is no burden to carry, as paying neither portage by land nor poundage by sea.
Yea, though to have land be a good first, yet




150          THE HOLY STATE.
to have learning is the surest second, which
may stand to it when the other may chance to
be taken away.
At the inns of court he applies himself to
learn the laws of the kingdom.  Object not,
"Why should a gentleman learn law, who, if
he needeth it, may have it for his money, and
if he hath never so much of his own, lie must
but give it away? " For what a shame is it
for a man of quality to be ignorant of Solon in
our Athens, of Lycurgus in our Sparta? Besides, law will help him to keep his own, and
bestead his neighbors.  Say not that there be
enough which make this their set practice: for
so there are also many masters of defence by
their profession; and shall private men therefore learn no skill at their weapons?
As for the hospitality, the apparel, the travelling, the company, the recreations, the marriage of gentlemen, they are described in several
chapters in the following book. A word or two
of his behavior in the country.
He is courteous and affable to his neighbors.
As the sword of the best tempered metal is
most flexible, so the truly generous are most
pliant and courteous in their behavior to their
inferiors.
He delights to see himself and his servants
well mounted: therefore he loveth good horsemanship. Let never any foreign Rabshakeh




THE TRUE GENVTLE~AN.         151
send that brave to our Jerusalem, offering to
lend her two thousand horses, if she be able for
her part to set riders upon them. We know
how Darius got the Persian empire from the
rest of his fellow-peers by the first neighing of
his generous steed.  It were no harm if, in
some needless suits of intricate precedency
betwixt equal gentlemen, the priority were
adjudged to him who keeps a stable of most
serviceable horses.
He furnisheth and prepareth himself in peace
against time of war, lest it be too late to learn
when his skill is to be used. He approves himself courageous when brought to the trial, as
well remembering the custom which is used at
the creation of Knights of the Bath, wherein
the king's master-cook cometh forth, and presenteth his great knife to the new-made knights,
admonishing them to be faithful and valiant,
otherwise he threatens them that that very
knife is prepared to cut off their spurs.
If the commission of the peace finds him out,
he faithfully. discharges it. I say, finds him
out; for a public office is a guest which receives the best usage from them who never
invited it. And though he declined the place,
the country knew to prize his worth, who
would be ignorant of his own. He compounds
many petty differences betwixt his neighbors,
which are easier ended in his own porch than




152          TIHE HOLY STATE.
in Westminster Hall: for many people think,
if once they have fetched a warrant from a justice, they have given earnest to follow the suit,
though otherwise the matter be so mean that
the next night's sleep would have bound both
parties to the peace, and made them as good
friends as ever before. Yet
He connives not at the smothering of punishable faults. He hates that practice, as common
as dangerous amongst country people, who, having received again the goods which were stolen
from them, partly out of foolish pity, and partly
out of covetousness to save charges in prosecuting the law, let the thief escape unpunished. Thus, whilst private losses are repaired,
the wounds to the commonwealth (in the breach
of the laws) are left uncured; and thus petty larceners are encouraged into felons, and
afterwards are hanged for pounds, because
never whipped for pence, who, if they had
felt the cord, had never been brought to the
halter.
If chosen a member of Parliament, he is
willing to do his country service. If he be no
rhetorician to raise affections, (yea, Mercury
was a greater speaker than Jupiter himself,)
he counts it great wisdom to be the good manager of yea and nay.  The slow pace of his
judgment is recompensed by the swift following of his affections, when his judgment is once




THE VIR TUO US LADY.         153
soundly informed. And here we leave him in
consultation, wishing him, with the rest of his
honorable society, all happy success.
THE VIRTUOUS LADY.
TO  describe a holy state without a virtuous
lady therein, were to paint out a year without a spring: we come therefore to her character.
She sets not her face so often by her glass
as she composeth her soul by God's word, —
which hath all the excellent qualities of a
glass indeed.
i. It is clear; in all points necessary to salvation, except to such whose eyes are blinded.
2. It is true; not like those false glasses
some ladies dress themselves by. And how
common is flattery, when even glasses have
learnt to be parasites!
3. It is large; presenting all spots cap-a-pie
behind and before, within and without.
4. It is durable; though in one sense it is
broken too often (when God's laws are neglected), yet it will last to break them that
break it, and one tittle thereof shall not fall to
the ground.
5. This glass hath power to smooth the




154          THE HOLY STATE.
wrinkles, cleanse the spots, and mend the
faults it discovers.
She walks humbly before God in all religious duties. Humbly; for she well knows
that the strongest Christian is like the city of
Rome, which was never besieged but it was
taken; and the best saint without God's assistance would be as often foiled as tempted. She
is most constant and diligent at her hours of
private prayer.  Queen Catharine Dowager
never kneeled on a cushion when she was at
her devotions: this matters not at all; our
lady is more careful of her heart than of her
knees, that her soul be settled arigbt.
She is careful and most tender of her credit
and reputation.  There is a tree in Mexicana
which is so exceedingly tender that a man
cannot touch any of his branches but it withers presently. A lady's credit is of equal niceness: a small touch may wound and kill it;
which makes her very cautious what company
she keeps. The Latin tongue seems somewhat
injurious to the feminine sex; for whereas
therein amicus is a friend, arnica always signifies a sweetheart; as if their sex in reference to men were not capable of any other
kind of familiar friendship but in way to marriage: which makes our lady avoid all privacy
with suspicious company.
Yet is she not more careful of her own




THE VIRTUOUS LADY.         155
credit than of God's glory; and stands up
valiantly in the defence thereof.  She hath
read how, at the coronation of King Richard
the Second, Dame Margaret Dimock, wife to
Sir John Dimock, came into the court and
claimed the place to be the king's champion
by the virtue of the tenure of her manor of
Scrinelby in Lincolnshire, to challenge and
defy all such as opposed the king's right to
the crown. But if our lady hears any speaking disgracefully of God or religion, she counts
herself bound by her tenure (whereby she
holds possession of grace here, and reversion
of glory hereafter) to assert and vindicate the
honor of the King of Heaven, whose champion
she professeth to be. One may be a lamb in
private wrongs, but in hearing general affronts
to goodness, they are asses which are not lions.
She is pitiful and bountiful to people in distress. We read how a daughter of the Duke
of Exeter invented a brake or cruel rack to
torment people withal, to which purpose it was
long reserved, and often used in the Tower of
London, and commonly called (was it not fit
so pretty a babe should bear her mother's
name?) the Duke of Exeter's Daughter. Methinks the finding out of a salve to ease poor
people in pain had borne better proportion to
her ladyship than to have been the inventor
of instruments of cruelty.




15 6         THE HOLY STATE.
She is a good scholar, and well learned in
useful authors. Indeed, as in purchases a house
is valued at nothing, because it returneth no
profit and requires great charges to maintain
it, so, for the same reasons, learning in a woman is but little to be prized.  But as for great
ladies, who ought to be a confluence of all
rarities and perfections, some learning in them
is not only useful, but necessary.
In discourse, her words are rather fit than
fine, very choice and yet not chosen.  Though
her language be not gaudy, yet the plainness
thereof pleaseth, - it is so proper, and handsomely put on.  Some, having a set of fine
phrases, will hazard an impertinency to use
them all, as thinking they give full satisfaction,
for dragging in the matter by head and shoulders, if they dress it in quaint expressions.
Others often repeat the same things, the Platonic year of their discourses being not above
three days long, in which term all the same
matter returns over again, threadbare talk, ill
suiting with the variety of their clothes.
She affects not the vanity of foolish fashions;
but is decently apparelled according to her
state and condition.  He that should have
guessed the bigness of Alexander's soldiers
by their shields left in India would much
over-proportion their true greatness. But what
a -vast overgrown creature would some guess a




THE VIRTUOUS LADY.         157
woman to be, taking his aim by the multitude
and variety of clothes and ornaments which
some of them use: insomuch as the ancient
Latins called a woman's wardrobe mundus,
a world; wherein notwithstanding was much
terra incognita, then undiscovered, but since
found out by the curiosity of modern fashionmongers. We find a map of this world drawn
by God's spirit, Isaiah iii. 18, wherein one-andtwenty women's ornaments (all superfluous)
are reckoned up, which at this day are much
increased.  The  moons, there  mentioned,
which they wore on their heads, may seem
since grown to the full in the luxury of afterages.
She is contented with that beauty which God
hath given her.  If very handsome, no whit
the more proud, but far the more thankful: if
unhandsome, she labors to better it in the virtues of her mind; that what is but plain cloth
without may be rich plush within. Indeed
such natural defects as hinder her comfortable
serving of God in her calling may be amended
by art; and any member of the body being
defective, may thereby be lawfully supplied.
Thus glass eyes may be used, though not for
seeing, for sightliness. But our lady detesteth
all adulterate complexions, finding no precedent thereof in the Bible save one, and her
so bad that ladies would blush through their




158          THE HOLY STATE.
paint to make her the pattern of their imitation. Yet are there many that think the grossest fault in painting is to paint grossly, (making their faces with thick daubing not only
new pictures, but new statues,) and that the
greatest sin therein is to be discovered.
In her marriage she principally respects virtue and religion, and next that, other accommodations, as we have formerly discoursed of.
And she is careful in match, not to bestow
herself unworthily beneath her own degree to
an ignoble person, except in case of necessity. Thus the gentlewomen in Champagne
in France, some three hundred years since,
were enforced to marry yeomen and farmers,
because all the nobility in that country were
slain in the wars, in the two voyages of King
Louis to Palestine; and thereupon ever since,
by custom and privilege, the gentlewomen of
Champagne and Brie ennoble their husbands,
and give them honor in marrying them, how
mean soever before.
Though pleasantly affected, she is not transported with court-delights; as in their stately masques and pageants. By degrees she is
brought from delighting in such masques, only
to be contented to see them, and at last, perchance, could desire to be excused from that also.
Yet in her reduced thoughts she makes all
the sport she hath seen earnest to herself: it




THE VIRTUOUS LADY.          159
must be a dry flower indeed out of which this
bee sucks no honey: they are the best Origens
who do allegorize all earthly vanities into heavenly truths. When she remembereth how suddenly the scene in the masque was altered (almost before moment itself could take notice of
it), she considereth how quickly mutable all
things are in this world, God ringing the
changes on all accidents, and making them
tunable to his glory: the lively representing of
things so curiously that nature herself might
grow jealous of art in outdoing her, minds
our lady to make sure work with her own soul,
seeing hypocrisy may be so like to sincerity.
But oh, what a wealthy exchequer of beauties
did she there behold, several faces most different, most excellent, (so great is the variety
even in bests,) what a rich mine of jewels
above-ground, all so brave, so costly! To give
court-masques their due, of all the bubbles in
this world they have the greatest variety of
fine colors. But all is quickly ended: this is
the spite of the world, -if ever she affordeth
fine ware, she always pincheth it in the measure, and it lasts not long. But oh, thinks our
lady, how glorious a place is heaven, where
there are joys for evermore. If a herd of kine
should meet together to fancy and define happiness, they would place it to consist in fine
pastures, sweet grass, clear water, shadowy




160          THIE HOLY STATE.
groves, constant summer; but if any winter,
then warm shelter and dainty hay, with company after their kind, counting these low things
the highest happiness because their conceit can
reach no higher. Little better do the heathen
poets describe heaven, paving it with pearl,
and roofing it with stars, filling it with gods
and goddesses, and allowing them to drink (as
if without it no poet's paradise) nectar and
ambrosia; heaven indeed being poetarum  dedecus, the shame of poets, and the disgrace
of all their hyperboles falling as far short of
truth herein as they go beyond it in other
fables. However, the sight of such glorious
earthly spectacles advantageth our lady's conceit by infinite multiplication thereof to consider of heaven.
She reads constant lectures to herself of her
own mortality.  To smell to a turf of fresh
earth is wholesome for the body; no less are
thoughts of mortality cordial to the soul.
"Earth thou art, to earth thou shalt return."
The sight of death when it cometh will neither
be so terrible to her, nor so strange, who bath
formerly often beheld it in her serious meditations.  With Job she saith to the worm,
"Thou art my sister."  If fair ladies scorn to
own the worms their kindred in this life, their
kindred will be bold to challenge them when
dead in their graves; for when the soul (the




TIIE VIRTUOUS LADY.        161
best perfume of the body) is departed from it,
it becomes so noisome a carcass, that, should I
make a description of the loathsomeness thereof, some dainty dames would hold their noses
in reading it.
To conclude: we read how Henry, a German prince, was admonished by revelation to
search for a writing in an old wall, which
should nearly concern him, wherein he found
only these two words written, POST SEX, after
six.  Whereupon Henry conceived that his
death was foretold, which after six days should
ensue; which made him pass those days in constant preparation for the same. But finding
the six days past without the effect he expected, he successively persevered in his godly
resolutions six weeks, six months, six years,
and on the first day of the seventh year the
prophecy was fulfilled, though otherwise than
he interpreted it; for thereupon he was chosen
Emperor of Germany, having before gotten
such a habit of piety that he persisted in his
religious course forever after. Thus our lady
hath so inured herself "all the days of her
appointed time to wait till her change cometh,"
that, expecting it every hour, she is always provided for that than which nothing is more
certain or uncertain.
11




162          THE HOLY STATE.
THE WISE STATESMAN.
O  describe the statesman at large is the
subject rather of a volume than a chapter,
and is as far beyond my power as wide of
my profession.  We will not launch into the
deep, but satisfy ourselves to sail by the shore,
and briefly observe his carriage towards God,
his king, himself, home-persons, and foreign
princes.
He counts the fear of God the beginning of
wisdom; and therefore.esteemeth no project
profitable which is not lawful; nothing politic
which crosseth piety. Let not any plead for
the: contrary, Hushai's dealing with Absalom,
which strongly savored of double-dealing; for
what is a question cannot be an argument, seeing the lawfulness of his deed therein was never
decided; and he is unwise that will venture the
state of his soul on the litigious title of such an
example. Besides, we must live by God's precepts, not by the godly's practice.. And though
God causeth sometimes the sun of success to
shine as well on bad as good projects, yet commonly wicked actions end in shame at the last.
In giving'counsel to'his prince, he had rather displease than hurt him. Plain dealing is
one of the daintiest rarities can be presented
to some princes, as being novelty to them all




TIIE WISE STATESMAN.        1 e 3
times of the year. The philosopher could say,
Quid omnia possidentibus deest? Ille qui verum
dicat. Wherefore our statesman seeks to undeceive his prince from the fallacies of flatterers, who by their plausible persuasions have
bolstered up their crooked counsels, to make
them seem straight in the king's eyes.
He is constant, but not obstinate in the advice he gives. Some think it beneath a wise
man to alter their opinion: a maxim both false
and dangerous. We know what worthy father
wrote his own retractation; and it matters not
though we go back from our word, so we go
forward in the truth and a sound judgment.
Such a one changeth not his main opinion;
which ever was this, to embrace that course
which, upon mature deliberation, shall appear
unto him the most advised. As for his carriage
towards himself,
He taketh an exact survey of his own defects
and perfections. As for the former, his weaknesses and infirmities he doth carefully and
wisely conceal: sometimes he covers them over
with a cautious confidence, and presents a fair
hilt, but keeps the sword in the sheath, which
wanteth an edge. But this he manageth with
much art; otherwise, being betrayed, it would
prove most ridiculous, and it would make brave
music to his enemies to hear the hissing of an
empty bladder when it is pricked.




164          THE HOLY STATE.
His known perfections he seeks modestly to
cloud and obscure. It is needless to show the
sun shining, which will break out of itself. Not
like our fantastics, who, having a fine watch,
draw all occasions to draw it out to be seen.
Yea, because sometimes he concealeth his sufficiency in such things wherein others know he
hath ability, he shall therefore be thought at
other times to have ability in those matters
wherein indeed he wants it, men interpreting
him therein rather modestly to dissemble than
to be defective. Yet, when just occasion is offered, he shows his perfections soundly, though
seldom, and then graceth them out to the best
advantage.
In discourse, he is neither too free nor overreserved, but observes a mediocrity. His hall
is common to all comers, but his closet is locked.
General matters he is as liberal to impart as
careful to conceal importancies. Moderate liberty in speech inviteth and provoketh liberty to
be used again, where a constant closeness makes
all suspect him; and his company is burdensome that liveth altogether on the expenses of
others, and will lay out nothing himself: Yea,
who will barter intelligence with him that returns no considerable ware in exchange?
He trusteth not any with a secret which may
endanger his estate.  For if he tells it to his
servant, he makes him  his master; if to his




TIHE WISE STATESMAN.        165
friend, he enables him to be a foe, and to undo
him at pleasure, whose secrecy he must buy at
the party's own price; and if ever he shuts his
purse, the other opens his mouth. Matters of
inferior consequence he will communicate to a
fast friend, and crave his advice; for two eyes
see more than one, though it be never so big,
and set (as in Polyphemus) in the midst of the
forehead.
He is careful and provident in the managing
of his private estate.  Excellently Ambrose,
An idoneum putabo qui miki det consiliurn, qui
non dat sibi.?  Well may princes suspect those
statesmen not to be wise in the business of the
commonwealth who are fools in ordering their
own affairs. Our politician, if he enlargeth not
his own estate, at least keeps it in good repair.
As for avaricious courses, he disdaineth them.
Sir Thomas More, though some years Lord
Chancellor of England, scarce left his son fiveand-twenty pounds a year more than his father
left him. And Sir Henry Sidney (father to Sir
Philip), being Lord President of Wales and Ireland, got not one foot of land in either country,
rather seeking after the common good than his
private profit. I must confess the last age produced an English statesman, who was the picklock of the cabinets of foreign princes, who,
though the wisest in his time and way, died
poor and indebted to private men, though not




166          THE HOLY STATE.
so much as the whole kingdom was indebted to
him.  But such an accident is rare; and a
small hospital will hold those statesmen who
have impaired their means, not by their private
carelessness, but carefulness for the public. As
for his carriage towards home-persons,
He studieth men's natures, first reading the
title-pages of them by the report of fame, but
credits not fame's relations to the full.  Otherwise, as in London Exchange one shall overbuy wares who gives half the price at first
demanded, so he that believeth the moiety of
fame may believe too much. Wherefore, to be
more accurate,
He reads the chapters of men's natures
(chiefly his concurrents and competitors) by
the reports of their friends and foes, making
allowance for their engagements, not believing
all in the mass, but only what he judiciously
extracteth.  Yet virtues confessed by their
foes, and vices acknowledged by their friends,
are commonly true. The best intelligence, if
it can be obtained, is from a fugitive privado.
But the most legible character and truest
edition wherein he reads a man, is in his own
occasional openings; and that in these three
cases: -
1. When the party discloses himself in his
wine; for though it be unlawful to practise on
any to make them drunk, yet no doubt one




THE WISE S TA TESMIAN.       167
may make a good use of another man's abusing
himself. What they say of the herb lunaria,
ceremoniously gathered at some set times, that,
laid upon any lock, it makes it fly open, is most
true of drunkenness, unbolting the most important secrets.
2. When he discovereth himself in his passions. Physicians, to make some small veins in
their patients' arms plump and full, that they
may see them the better to let them blood, use
to put them into hot water: so the heat of passion presenteth many invisible veins in men's
hearts to the eye of the beholder; yea, the
sweat of anger washeth off their paint, and
makes them appear in their true colors.
3. When accidentally they bolt out speeches
unawares to themselves.  More hold is then to
be taken of a few words casually uttered, than
of set, solemn speeches, which rather show
men's arts than their natures, as indited rather
from their brains than hearts. The drop of one
word may show more than the stream of a
whole oration; and our statesman, by examining such fugitive passages (which have stolen
on a sudden out of the party's mouth), arrives
at his best intelligence.
In court-factions he keeps himself in a free
neutrality. Otherwise to engage himself needlessly were both folly and danger.  When
Francis the First, King of France, was con



168          THE HOLY STATE.
suiting with his captains how to lead his army
over the Alps into Italy, whether this way or
that way, Amarill, his fool, sprang out of a
corner, where he sat unseen, and bade them
rather take care which way they should bring
their army out of Italy back again.  Thus is it
easy for one to interest and embark himself in
others' quarrels, but much difficulty it is to be
disengaged from  them  afterwards.  Nor will
our statesman entitle himself a party in any
feminine discords, knowing that women's jars
breed men's wars.
Yet he counts neutrality profaneness in such
matters wherein God, his prince, the Church,
or State are concerned. Indeed, " lie that meddleth with strife not belonging unto him is like
one that taketh a dog by the ears." Yet, if the
dog worrieth a sheep, we may, yea, ought to
rescue it from  his teeth, and must be champions for innocence when it is overborne with
might. He that will stand neuter in such matters of moment, wherein his calling commands
him to be a party, with Servilius in Rome, will
please neither side; of whom the historian says,
P.  Servilius  medium  se gerendo, nec plebis
vitavit odium, nee apud patres gratiam  inivit.
And just it is with God, that they should be
strained in the twist who stride so wide as to
set their legs in two opposite sides. Indeed, an
upright shoe may fit both feet, but I never saw




THE WISE STATE'S7MA Y.       169
a glove that would serve both hands. Neutrality in matters of an indifferent nature may
fit well, but never suit well in important matters, of far different conditions.
He is the centre wherein lines of intelligence
meet from all foreign countries. He is careful
that his outlandish instructions be full, true, and
speedy; not with the sluggard telling for news
at noon that the sun is risen. But more largely
hereof in the Ambassador, hereafter.
He refuseth all underhand pensions from foreign princes.  Indeed, honorary rewards received with the approbation of his sovereign,
may be lawful, and less dangerous. For, although even such gifts tacitly oblige him by
way of gratitude to do all good offices to that
foreign prince whose pensioner he is, yet his
counsels pass not but with an open abatement
in regard of his known engagements; and so
the State is armed against the advice of such
who are well known to lean to one side. But
secret pensions, which flow from foreign princes,
like the River Anas in Spain, underground,
not known or discerned, are most mischievous.
The receivers of such will play under-board at
the council-table; and the eating and digesting
of such outlandish food will by degrees fill their
veins with outlandish blood, even in their very
hearts.
His masterpiece is in negotiating for his own




170          TIlE HOLY S TATE.
master with foreign princes. At Rhodes there
was a contention betwixt Apelles and Protogenes, corrivals in the mystery of limning.
Apelles, with his pencil, drew a very slender
even line; Protogenes drew another, more small
and slender, in the midst thereof with another
color; Apelles again, with a third line of a different color, drew through the midst of that
Protogenes had made, nullum relinquens amplius subtilitati locum.  Thus our statesman
traverseth matters, doubling and redoubling in
his foreign negotiations with the politicians of
other princes, winding and intrenching themselves mutually within the thoughts each of
other, till at last our statesman leaves no degrees of subtilty to go beyond him.
To conclude, some plead that dissembling is
lawful in state-craft, upon the presupposition
that men must meet with others which dissemble. Yea, they hold, that thus to counterfeit,
se defendendo, against a crafty corrival, is no
sin, but a just punishment on our adversary,
who first began it. And therefore statesmen
sometimes must use crooked shoes to fit hurled
feet.  Besides, the honest politician would
quickly be beggared, if, receiving black money
from cheaters, he pays them in good silver, and
not in their own coin back again. For my part,
I confess that herein I rather see what than
whither to fly; neither able to answer their




THE AMBASSAD OR.          171
arguments, nor willing to allow their practice.
But what shall I say?  They need to have
steady heads who can dive into these gulfs of
policy, and come out with a safe conscience.
I will look no longer on these whirlpools of
state, lest my pen turn giddy.
THE AMBASSADOR.
HE is one that represents his king in a foreign country (as a deputy doth in his own
dominions) under the assurance of the public
faith, authorized by the law of nations. He is
either extraordinary, for some one affair, with
time limited; or, ordinary, for general matters,
during his prince's pleasure, commonly called
a legier.
He is born, made, or at leastwise qualified
honorably, both for the honor of the sender
and him to whom he is sent; especially if the
solemnity of the action wherein he is employed consisteth in ceremony and magnificence. Louis the Eleventh, King of France,
is sufficiently condemned by posterity for sending Oliver, his barber, in an embassage to a
princess, who so trimly despatched his business that he left it in the suds, and had been




172          THE HOLY STATE.
well washed in the river at Ghent for his pains,
if his feet had not been the more nimble.
He is of a proper, at least passable, person.
Otherwise, if he be of a contemptible presence, he is absent whilst he is present; especially if employed in love-businesses to advance a marriage.  Ladies will dislike the
body for a deformed shadow. The jest is well
known: when the State of Rome sent two
ambassadors, the one having scars on his head,
the other lame in his feet, mittitpopulus Romanus legationem quce nee caput habet, nee pedes,
the people of Rome send an embassy without
head or feet.
He hath a competent estate whereby to
maintain his port: for a great poverty is ever
suspected; and he that hath a breach in his
estate, lies open to be assaulted with bribes.
Wherefore his means ought at least to be sufficient, both to defray set and constant charges,
as also to make sallies and excursions of expenses on extraordinary occasions, which we
may call supererogations of state. Otherwise,
if he be indigent and succeed a bountiful predecessor, he will seem a fallow field after a
plentiful crop.
He is a passable scholar, well travelled in
countries and histories; well studied in the
pleas of the crown, I mean not such as are at
home, betwixt his sovereign and his subjects,




THE AMBASSADOR.          ]173
but abroad betwixt his and foreign princes; to
this end he is well skilled in the imperial laws.
Common law itself is outlawed bevond the
seas; which though a most true, is too short
a measure of right, and reacheth not foreign
kingdoms.
He well understandeth the language of that
country to which he is sent; and yet he desires rather to seem ignorant of it, (if such a
simulation, which stands neuter betwixt a truth
and a lie, be lawful,) and that for these reasons: first, because though he can speak it
never so exactly, his eloquence therein will be
but stammering, compared to the ordinary talk
of the natives: secondly, hereby he shall in a
manner stand invisible, and view others; and
as Joseph's deafness heard all the dialogues
betwixt his brethren, so his not owning to understand the language shall expose their talk
the more open unto him: thirdly, he shall
have the more advantage to speak and negotiate in his own language; at the leastwise, if
he cannot make them come over to him, he
may meet them in the midway, in the Latin, a
speech common to all learned nations.
He gets his commission and instructions well
ratified and confirmed before he sets forth.
Otherwise it is the worst prison to be commission-bound.  And seeing he must not jet out
the least penthouse beyond his foundation, he




174          THE HOLY STATE.
had best well survey the extent of his authority.
He furnisheth himself with fit officers in his
family. Especially he is careful in choosing
1. A secretary, honest and able, careful to
conceal counsels, and not such a one as will let
drop out of his mouth whatsoever is poured in
at his ear: yea, the head of every ambassador
sleeps on the breast of his secretary.
2. A steward, wise and provident, such as
can temper magnificence with moderation, judiciously fashioning his ordinary expenses with
his master's estate, reserving a spare for all
events and accidental occasions, and making
all things to pass with decency, without any
rudeness, noise, or disorder.
He seasonably presents his embassage, and
demands audience. Such is the fresh nature
of some embassages, if not spent presently,
they scent ill. Thus it is ridiculous to condole
griefs almost forgotten; for (besides that with
a cruel courtesy it makes their sorrows bleed
afresh) it foolishly seems to teach one to take
that which he hath formerly digested.  When
some Trojan ambassadors came to comfort
Tiberius Coesar for the loss of his son, dead
wellnigh a twelvemonth before; "And I," said
the emperor, "am  very sorry for your grief
for the death of your Hector, slain by Achilles
a thousand years since."




THE AMBASSAD OR.          175
Coming to have audience, he applieth himself only to the prince to whom  he is sent.
When Chancellor Morville, ambassador from
the French king, delivering his message to
Philip, Duke of Burgundy, was interrupted by
Charles, the Duke's son, "I am sent," said he,
"not to treat with you, but with your father."
And our Mr. Wade is highly commended, that,
being sent by Queen Elizabeth to Philip, King
of Spain, he would not be turned over to the
Spanish Privy Council, (whose greatest grandees were dwarfs in honor to his queen,) but
would either have audience from the king himself, or would return without it. And yet
afterwards our ambassador knows (if desirous
that his business should take eff'ect) how and
when to make his secret and underhand addresses to such potent favorites as strike the
stroke in the State; it often happening in commonwealths that the master's mate steers the
ship thereof more than the master himself.
In delivering his message, he complies with
the garb and guise of the country; either
longer, briefer, more plain, or more flourishing, as it is most acceptable to such to whom
he directs his speech.  The Italians (whose
country is called " the country of good words ")
love the circuits of courtesy, that an ambassador should not, as a sparrow-hawk, fly outright to his prey, and meddle presently with




176          THIE  IOL Y STATE.
the matter in hand; but with the noble falcon,
mount in language, soar high, fetch compasses
of compliment, and then in due time stoop to
game and seize on the business propounded.
Clean contrary the Switzers (who sent word
to the King of France, not to send them an
ambassador with store of words, but a treasurer with plenty of money) count all words
quite out which are not straight on, have an
antipathy against eloquent language; the flowers of rhetoric being as offensive to them as
sweet perfumes to such as are troubled with
the mother. Yea, generally, great soldiers have
their stomachs sharp set to feed on the matter,
loathing long speeches, as wherein they conceive themselves to lose time in which they
could conquer half a country, and, counting
bluntness their best eloquence, love to be accosted in their own kind.
He commands himself not to admire anything presented unto him. He looks, but not
gazeth on foreign magnificence, (as country
clowns on a city,) beholding them with a familiar eye, as challenging old acquaintance,
having known them long before. If he be surprised with a sudden wonder, he so orders it,
that, though his soul within feels an admiration,
none can perceive it without in his counteIallnce. For,
1. It is inconsistent with the steadiness of
his g:ravity to be startled with a wonder.




THE AMBASSAD OR.          177
2. Admiration is the daughter of ignorance:
whereas he ought to be so read in the world
as to be posed with no rarity.
3. It is a tacit confession (if he wonders at
state, strength, or wealth) that herein his own
master's kingdom is far surpassed. And yet he
will not slight and neglect such worthy sights
as he beholds, which would savor too much of
sullenness and self-addiction, things ill beseeming his noble spirit.
He is zealous of the least punctilios of his
master's honor. Herein't is most true, the
law of honor servanda in a!picibus: yea, a toy
may be real, and a point may be essential to
the sense of some sentences, and worse to be
spared than some whole letter. Great kings
wrestle together by the strength and nimbleness of their ambassadors; wherefore ambassadors are careful to afford no advantage to
the adverse party; and mutually no more hold
is given than what is gotten, lest the fault of
the ambassador be drawn into precedent, to
the prejudice of his master. He that abroad
will lose an hair of his king's honor, deserves
to lose his own head when he comes home.
He appears not violent in desiring anything
he would effect; but with a seeming carelessness most carefully advanceth his master's
business.  If employed to conclude a peace,
he represents his master as indifferent therein
12




178          THE HOL Y S TA TE.
for his own part, but that desiring to spare
Christian blood, preponderates him for peace,
whose conscience, not purse or arms, are weary
of the war: he entreats not, but treats for an
accord, for their mutual good. But if the ambassador declareth himself zealous for it, perchance he may be forced to buy those conditions which otherwise would be given him.
He is constantly and certainly informed of
all passages in his own country. What a shame
is it for him to be a stranger to his native
affairs! Besides, if gulls and rumors from his
country be raised on purpose to amuse our ambassador, he rather smiles than starts at these
false vizards, who, by private instructions from
home, knows the true face of his countryestate. And lest his master's secretary should
fail him herein, he counts it thrift to cast away
some pounds yearly to some private friend in
the court, to send him true information of all
home-remarkables.
He carefully returns good intelligence to his
master that employeth him.
1. Speedy; not being such a sluggard as to
write for news at noon, that the sun is risen.
2. True; so far forth as may be; else he
stamps it with a mark of uncertainty or suspicion.
3. Full; not filling the paper, but informing
those to whom it is written.




THE AMBASSADOR.            179
4. Material; not grinding his advices too
small, to frivolous particulars of love-toys, and
private brawls, as one layeth it to the charge of
Francis Guicciardine's History, — Miinu tissimna
quceque narrat, parum  ex lege aut dignitate historice. And yet such particulars, which are
too mean to be served up to the council-table,
may make a feast for ladies, or other his
friends; and therefore to such our ambassador relates them by his private letters.
5. Methodical; not running on all in a continued strain, but stopping at the stages of different businesses to breathe himself and the
reader, and to take and begin a new sentence.
6. Well penned, clear and plain; not hunting after language, but teaching words their
distance to wait on his matter, intermingling
sententious speeches sparingly, lest seeming
affected.  And if constrained twice to write
the same matter, still he varieth his words,
lest he may seem to write like notaries, by
precedents.
He will not have his house serve as a retreating-place for people suspected and odious
in that State wherein he is employed. Much
less shall his house be a sanctuary for offenders, seeing the very horns of God's altar did
push away from them such notorious malefactors as did fly unto them for protection.
He is cautious not to practise any treach



180          THE HOLY STATE.
erous act against the prince under whom he
lives; lest the shield of his embassy prove too
small to defend him from the sword of justice,
seeing that for such an offence an ambassador
is resolved into a private man, and may worthily be punished, as in the cases of Bernardinus Mendoza and the Bishop of Ross. Yea, he
will not so much as break forth publicly into
any discourse, which he knows will be distasteful in that country wherein he is employed.
Learned Bodin, who some seventy years since
waited on Monsieur into England, was here,
though highly admired for his learning, condemned much for his indiscretion, if his corrival's pen may be credited. For being feasted
at an English lord's table, he fell into the
odious discourse, that a princess, meaning Mary
Queen of Scots, was, after Queen Elizabeth, the
presumptive inheritrix of the English crown,
notwithstanding an English law seemed to exclude those who are born out of the land;
" And yet," said he, " I know not where this
law is, for all the diligence that I have used to
find it out." To whom it was suddenly replied
by the lord that entertained him, " You shall
find it written on the backside of your Salic
law: " a judicious and biting rebound.
He is careful of suspicious complying with
that prince to whom he is sent; as to receive
from him any extraordinary gifts, much less




THE AMBASSADOR.           181
pensions, which carry with them more than an
appearance of evil. Sir Amias Paulet was so
scrupulous herein, that, being ambassador in
France in the days of Queen Elizabeth, he
would not at his departure receive from the
French king the chain of gold (which is given
of course) till he was half a league out of the
city of Paris.
If lie hath any libera manclata, unlimited
instructions, herein his discretion is most admirable.
But what go I about to do? Hereof enough
already, if not too much; it better complying
with my profession to practise St. Paul's precept to mine own parishioners, "' Now then we
are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did
beseech you by us, we pray you, in Christ's
stead, be reconciled to God."




THE HOLY STATE.
OF HOSPITALITY.
HOSPITALITY is threefold: for one's family; this is of necessity: for strangers;
this is courtesy: for the poor; this is charity.
Of the two latter.
To keep a disorderly house is the way to
keep neither house nor lands. For whilst they
keep the greatest roaring, their state steals
away in the greatest silence. Yet, when many
consume themselves with secret vices, then
hospitality bears the blame: whereas, it is not
the meat but the sauce, not the supper but the
gaming after it, doth undo them.
Measure not thy entertainment of a guest by
his estate, but thine own.  Because he is a
lord, forget not that thou art but a gentleman:
otherwise, if with feasting him thou breakest
thyself, he will not cure thy rupture, and (perchance) rather deride than pity thee.
When provision (as we say) groweth on the




OF HOSPITALITY.           183
same, it is miraculously multiplied. In Northamptonshire all the rivers of the county are
bred in it, besides those (Ouse and Charwell)
it lendeth and sendeth into other shires: so the
good housekeeper hath a fountain of wheat in
his field, mutton in his fold, &c., both to serve
himself and supply others. The expense of a
feast will but breathe him, which will tire another of the same estate who buys all by the
penny.
Mean men's palates are best pleased with
fare rather plentiful than various, solid than
dainty. Dainties will cost more, and content
less, to those that are not critical enough to
distinguish them.
Occasional entertainment of men greater
than thyself is better than solemn inviting
them. Then short warning is thy large excuse: whereas, otherwise, if thou dost not
overdo thy estate, thou shalt underdo his expectation; for thy feast will be but his ordinary
fare. A king of France was often pleased in
his hunting wilfully to lose himself, to find the
house of a private park-keeper; where, going
from the school of state-affairs, he was pleased
to make a play-day to himself. He brought
sauce (hunger) with him, which made coarse
meat dainties to his palate. At last the parkkeeper took heart, and solemnly invited the
king to his house, who came with all his court,




184          THE HOLY STATE.
so that all the man's meat was not a morsel for
them. " Well," said the park-keeper, "I will
invite no more kings; " having learnt the difference between princes when they please to
put on the vizard of privacy, and when they
will appear like themselves, both in their person
and attendants.
Those are ripe for charity which are withered by age or impotency, especially if maimed
in following their calling; for such are industry's martyrs, at least her confessors. Add to
these those that with diligence fight against
poverty, though neither conquer till death
make it a drawn battle. Expect not, but prevent their craving of thee; for God forbid the
heavens should never rain till the earth first
opens her mouth, seeing some grounds will
sooner burn than chap.
The house of correction is the fittest hospital
for those cripples whose legs are lame through
their own laziness. Surely, King Edward the
Sixth was as truly charitable in granting Bridewell for the punishment of sturdy rogues as in
giving St. Thomas's Hospital for the relief of
the poor. I have done with the subject; only
I desire rich men to awaken hospitality, which
one saith since the year 1572 hath in a manner
been laid asleep in the grave of Edward, Earl
of Derby.




OF JES TING.           185
OF JESTING.
H ARMLESS mirth is the best cordial against
the consumption of the spirits: wherefore
jesting is not unlawful if it trespasseth not in
quantity, quality, or season.
It is good to make a jest, but not to make a
trade of jesting. The Earl of Leicester, knowing that Queen Elizabeth was much delighted
to see a gentleman dance well, brought the
master of a dancing-school to dance before her.
" Pish," said the Queen, "it is his profession;
I will not see him."  She liked it not where it
was a master-quality, but where it attended on
other perfections. The same may we say of
jesting.
Jest not with the two-edged sword of God's
word. Will nothing please thee to wash thy
hands in but the font? or to drink healths in
but the church chalice?  And know the whole
art is learnt at the first admission, and profane
jests will come without calling.  If, in the
troublesome days of King Edward the Fourth,
a citizen in Cheapside was executed as a traitor
for saying he would make his son heir to the
crown, though he only meant his own house,
having a crown for the sign; more dangerous
it is to wit-wanton it with the majesty of God.
Wherefore, if without thine intention, and




186          TIE  HOLY STATE.
against thy will, by chance-medley thou hittest
Scripture in ordinary discourse, yet fly to the
city of refuge, and pray to God to forgive
thee.
Wanton jests make fools laugh, and wise men
frown.  Seeing we are civilized Englishmen,
let us not be naked savages in our talk. Such
rotten speeches are worst in withered age,
when men run after that sin in their words
which flieth from them in the deed.
Let not thy jests, like mummy, be made of
dead men's flesh.. Abuse not any that are departed; for to wrong their memories is to rob
their ghosts of their winding-sheets.
Scoff not at the natural defects of any which
are not in their power to amend. Oh,'t is cruelty to beat a cripple with his own crutches.
Neither flout any for his profession, if honest,
though poor and painful. Mock not a cobbler
for his black thumbs.
He that relates another man's wicked jest
with delight, adopts it to be his own. Purge
them therefore from their poison. If the profaneness may be severed from the wit, it is like
a lamprey; take out the string in the back, it
may make good meat: but if the staple conceit
consists in profaneness, then it is a viper, all
poison, and meddle not with it.
He that will lose his friend for a jest, deserves to die a beggar by the bargain. Yet




OF SELF-PRAISING.         187
some think their conceits, like mustard, not
good except they bite. We read that all those
who were born in England the year after the
beginning of the great mortality, 1349, wanted
their four cheek-teeth. Such let thy jests be,
that they may not grind the credit of thy
friend, and make not jests so long till thou
becomest one.
No time to break jests when the heart-strings
are about to be broken. No more showing of
wit when the head is to be cut off. Like that
dying man, who, when the priest coming to
him to give him extreme unction, asked of him
where his feet were, answered, " At the end of
my legs." But at such a time jests are an unmannerly crepitus ingenii: and let those take
heed who end here with Democritus, that they
begin not with Heraclitus hereafter.
OF SELF-PRAISING.
HWE whose own worth doth speak, need not
speak his own worth.  Such boasting
sounds proceed from emptiness of desert:
whereas the conquerors in the Olympian games
did not put on the laurels on their own heads,
but waited till some other did it. Only anchorets that want company may crown themselves with their own commendations.




188          THE HOLY STATE.
It showeth more wit but no less vanity to
commend one's self not in a straight line but
by reflection. Some sail to the port of their
own praise by a side-wind; as when they dispraise themselves, stripping themselves naked
of what is their due, that the modesty of the
beholders may clothe them with it again; or
when they flatter another to his face, tossing
the ball to him that he may throw it back again
to them; or when they commend that quality, wherein themselves excel, in another man
(though absent) whom all know far their inferior in that faculty; or, lastly, (to omit other
ambushes men set to surprise praise,) when
they send the children of their own brain to
be nursed by another man, and commend their
own works in a third person, but if challenged
by the company that they were authors of them
themselves, with their tongues they faintly
deny it, and with their faces strongly affirm it.
Self-praising comes most naturally from a
man when it comes most violently from him in
his own defence. For though modesty binds a
man's tongue to the peace in this point, yet,
being assaulted in his credit, he may stand
upon his guard, and then he doth not so much
praise as purge himself.  One braved a gentleman to his face that in skill and valor he came
far behind him.  "'T is true," said the other,
" for when I fought with you, you ran away




OF TRAVELLING.            189
before me." In such a case, it was well returned, and without any just aspersion of pride.
He that falls into sin is a man; that grieves
at it, is a saint; that boasteth of it, is a devil.
Yet some glory in their shame, counting the
stains of sin the best complexion for their souls.
These men make me believe it may be true
what Mandeville writes of the Isle of Somabarre, in the East Indies, that all the nobility
thereof brand their faces with a hot iron in
token of honor.
He that boasts of sins never committed is a
double devil. Some, who would sooner creep
into a scabbard than draw a sword, boast of
their robberies, to usurp the esteem of valor;
whereas, first let them be well whipped for
their lying, and as they like that, let them
come afterward and entitle themselves to the
gallows.
OF TRAVELLING.
T is a good accomplishment to a man, if first
the stock be well grown whereon travel is
graffed, and these rules observed before, in,
and after his going abroad.
Travel not too early, before thy judgment be
risen; lest thou observest rather shows than




190          THE HOLY STATE.
substance, marking alone pageants, pictures,
beautiful buildings, &c.
Get the language (in part), without which
key thou shalt unlock little of moment. It is
a great advantage to be one's own interpreter.
Object not that the French tongue learnt in
England must be unlearnt again in France;
for it is easier to add than begin, and to pronounce than to speak.
Be well settled in thine own religion, lest,
travelling out of England into Spain, thou
goest out of God's blessing into the warm sun.
They that go over maids for their religion, will
be ravished at the sight of the first Popish
church they enter into. But if first thou be
well grounded, their fooleries shall rivet thy
faith the faster, and travel shall give thee confirmation in that baptism thou didst receive at
home.
Know most of the rooms of thy native country before thou goest over the threshold thereof;
especially seeing England presents thee with so
many observables. But late writers lack nothing but age, and home-wonders but distance to
make them admired.'T is a tale what Josephus
writes of the two pillars set up by the sons of
Seth in Syria, the one of brick, fire-proof, the
other of stone, water-free, thereon engraving
many heavenly matters to perpetuate learning
in defiance of time. But it is truly moralized




OF TRA VELLING.          191
in our universities, Cambridge (of brick), and
Oxford (of stone), wherein learning and religion are preserved, and where the worst college
is more sightworthy than the best Dutch gymnasium. First view these, and the rest homerarities; not like those English that can give a
better account of Fontainebleau than Hampton
Court, of the Spa than Bath, of Anas in Spain
than Mole in Surrey.
Travel not beyond the Alps. Mr. Ascham
did thank God that he was but nine days in
Italy, wherein he saw in one city (Venice)
more liberty to sin than in London he ever
heard of in nine years. That some of our
gentry have gone thither, and returned thence
without infection, I more praise God's providence than their adventure.
To travel from the sun is uncomfortable.
Yet the northern parts with much ice have
some crystal, and want not their remarkables.
If thou wilt see much in a little, travel the
Low  Countries.  Holland is all Europe in
an Amsterdam print, for Minerva, Mars, and
Mercury, learning, war, and traffic.
Be wise in choosing objects, diligent in marking, careful in remembering of them; yet herein men much follow their own humors. One
asked a barber, who never before had been at
the court, what he saw there.  " Oh," said
he, "the king was excellently well trimmed!"




192          THE HOLY STATE.
Thus merchants most mark foreign havens,
exchanges, and marts; soldiers note forts,
armories, and magazines; scholars listen after
libraries, disputations, and professors; statesmen observe courts of justice, councils, &c.
Every one is partial in his own profession.
Labor to distil and unite into thyself the
scattered perfections of several nations.  But
(as it was said of one who, with more industry
than judgment, frequented a college library,
and commonly made use of the worst notes he
met with in any authors, that "he weeded the
library") many weed foreign countries, bringing home Dutch drunkenness, Spanish pride,
French wantonness, and Italian atheism.  As
for the good herbs, Dutch industry, Spanish
loyalty, French courtesy, and Italian frugality,
these they leave behind them. Others bring
home just nothing; and because they singled
not themselves from their countrymen, though
some years beyond sea, were never out of
England.
Continue correspondency with some choice
foreign friend after thy return; as some professor or secretary, who virtually is the whole
university, or State.'T is but a dull Dutch
fashion, their album anzicorum, to make a dictionary of their friends' names; but a selected
familiar in every country is useful; betwixt
you there may be a letter-exchange. Be sure




OF COMPANY.              193
to return as good wares as thou receivest, and
acquaint him with the remarkables of thy own
country, and he will willingly continue the
trade, finding it equally gainful.
Let discourse rather be easily drawn than
willingly flow from thee, that thou mayst not
seem weak to hold, or desirous to vent news,
but content to gratify thy friends. Be sparing
in reporting improbable truths, especially to the
vulgar, who, instead of informing their judgments, will suspect thy credit. Disdain their
peevish pride who rail on their native land
(whose worse fault is that it bred such ungrateful fools), and in all their discourses prefer foreign countries, herein showing themselves of
kin to the wild Irish, in loving their nurses
better than their mothers.
OF COMPANY.
OMPANY is one of the greatest pleasures
of the nature of man. For the beams of
joy are made hotter by reflection when related to another; and otherwise gladness itself
must grieve for want of one to express itself
to.
It is unnatural for a man to court and hug
solitariness.  It is observed that the farthest
13




194          THE HOLY STATE.
islands in the world are so seated that there is
none so remote but that from some shore of it
another island or continent may be discerned;
as if hereby nature invited countries to a mutual commerce one with another. Why, then,
should any man affect to environ himself with
so deep and great reservedness as not to communicate with the society of others?  And
though we pity those who made solitariness
their refuge in time of persecution, we must
condemn such as choose it in the Church's
prosperity. For well may we count him not
well in his wits who will live always under a
bush because others in a storm shelter themselves under it.
Yet a desert is better than a debauched companion. For the wildness of the place is but
uncheerful, whilst the wildness of bad persons
is also infectious. Better, therefore, ride alone
than have a thief's company. And such is a
wicked man, who will rob thee of precious
time, if he doth no more mischief. The Nazarites who might drink no wine, were also forbidden (N1um. vi. 3) to eat grapes, whereof
wine is made. We must not only avoid sin
itself, but also the causes and occasions thereof; amongst which bad company (the limetwigs of the devil) is the chiefest, especially to
catch those natures which, like the good-fellow
planet Mercury, are most swayed by others.




OF COMPANY.             195
If thou beest cast into bad company, like Hercules, thou must sleep with thy club in thine
hand, and stand on thy guard.  I mean, if
against thy will the tempest of an unexpected
occasion drives thee amongst such rocks; then
be thou like the River Dee in Merionethshire in
Wales, which, running through Pimble Meer,
remains entire, and mingles not her streams
with the waters of the lake.  Though with
them, be not of them; keep civil communion
with them, but separate from their sins. And
if against thy will thou fallest amongst wicked
men, know to thy comfort thou art still in thy
calling, and therefore in God's keeping, who,
on thy prayers, will preserve thee.
The company he keeps is the comment by
help whereof men expound the most close and
mystical man, understanding him for one of
the same religion, life, and manners with his
associates. And though perchance he be not
such a one,'t is just he should be counted so
for conversing with them.  Augustus Caesar
came thus to discern his two daughters' inclinations: for, being once at a public show,
where much people was present, he observed
that the grave senators talked with Livia, but
loose youngsters and riotous persons with Julia.
" He that eats cherries with noblemen shall
have his eyes spirted out with the stones."
This outlandish proverb hath in it an English




196          THE HOLY STATE.
truth, that they who constantly converse with
men far above their estates, shall reap shame
and loss thereby. If thou payest nothing, they
will count thee a sucker, no branch; a wen,
no member of their company. If in payments
thou keepest pace with them, their long strides
will soon tire thy short legs. The beavers in
New England, when some ten of them together draw a stick to the building of their
lodging, set the weakest beavers to the lighter
end of the log, and the strongest take the
heaviest part thereof: whereas men often lay
the greatest burden on the weakest back; and
great persons, to teach meaner men to learn
their distance, take pleasure to make them pay
for their company. I except such men who,
having some excellent quality, are gratis very
welcome to their betters; such a one, though
he pays not a penny of the shot, spends enough
in lending them his time and discourse.
To affect always to be the best of the company, argues a base disposition. Gold always
worn in the same purse with silver loses both
of the color and weight; and so to converse
always with inferiors degrades a man of his
worth.  Such there are that love to be the
lords of the company, whilst the rest must be
their tenants; as if bound by their lease to
approve, praise, and admire whatsoever they
say.  These, knowing the lowness of their




OF APPAREL.             197
parts, love to live with dwarfs, that they may
seem proper men. To come amongst their
equals, they count it an abridgment of their
freedom; but to be with their betters, they
deem it flat slavery.
It is excellent for one to have a library of
scholars, especially if they be plain to be read.
I mean of a communicative nature, whose discourses are as full as fluent, and their judgments as right as their tongues ready: such
men's talk shall be thy lectures. To conclude; good company is not only profitable
whilst a man lives, but sometimes when he is
dead. For he that was buried with the bones
of Elisha, by a posthumous miracle of that
prophet, recovered his life by lodging with
such a grave-fellow.
OF APPAREL.
LOTHES are for necessity; warm clothes
for health; cleanly for decency; lasting for
thrift; and rich for magnificence. Now there
may be a fault in their number, if too various;
making, if too vain; matter, if too costly; and
mind of the wearer, if he takes pride therein.
We come, therefore, to some general directions.




198          THE HOLY STATE.
It's a chargeable vanity to be constantly
clothed above one's purse or place. I say constantly; for perchance sometimes it may be
dispensed with. A  great man, who himself,was very plain in apparel, checked a gentleman for being over-fine; who modestly answered, "Your lordship hath better clothes at
home, and I have worse." But, sure, no plea
can be made when this luxury is grown to be
ordinary. It was an arrogant act of Hubert,
Archbishop of Canterbury, who, when King
John had given his courtiers rich liveries, to
ape the lion, gave his servants the like, wherewith the king was not a little offended. But
what shall we say to the riot of our age,
wherein (as peacocks are more gay than the
eagle himself) subjects are grown braver than
their sovereign?'T is beneath a wise man always to wear
clothes beneath men of his rank. True, there
is a state sometimes in decent plainness. When
a wealthy lord at a great solemnity had the
plainest apparel, " Oh! " said one, " if you had
marked it well, his suit had the richest pockets." Yet it argues no wisdom in clothes, always to stoop beneath his condition. When
Antisthenes saw Socrates in a torn coat, he
showed a hole thereof to the people: "And
lo! " quoth he, "through this I see Socrates
his pride."




OF APPAREL.            199
He shows a light gravity who loves to be an
exception from a general fashion. For the received custom in the place where we live is the
most competent judge of decency; from which
we must not appeal to our own opinion. When
the French courtiers, mourning for their king,
Henry the Second, had worn cloth a whole
year, all silks became so vile in every man's
eyes, that, if any was seen to wear them, he
was presently accounted a mechanic or country
fellow.
It's a folly for one, Proteus-like, never to
appear twice in one shape. Had some of our
gallants been with the Israelites in the wilderness, when for forty years their clothes waxed
not old, they would have been vexed, though
their clothes were whole, to have been so long
in one fashion. Yet, here I must confess, I
understand not what is reported of Fulgentius,
that he used the same garment winter and
summer, and never altered his clothes, etiam
in sacris peragendis.
He that is proud of the rustling of his silks,
like a madman, laughs at the rattling of his
fetters. For, indeed, clothes ought to be our
remembrancers of our lost innocency.  Besides, why should any brag of what's but borrowed? Should the ostrich snatch off the gallant's feather, the beaver his hat, the goat his
gloves, the sheep his suit, the silkworm his




200          THE HOLY STATE.
stockings, and neat his shoes, (to strip him no
farther than modesty will give leave,) he would
be left in a cold condition. And yet't is more
pardonable to be proud, even of cleanly rags,
than (as many are) of affected slovenness.
The one is proud of a molehill, the other of a
dunghill.
To conclude; sumptuary laws in this land to
reduce apparel to a set standard of price and
fashion, according to the several states of men,
have long been wished, but are little to be
hoped for. Some think private men's superfluity is a necessary evil in a State, the floating
of fashions affording a standing maintenance
to many thousands which otherwise would be
at a loss for a livelihood, — men maintaining
more by their pride than by their charity.
OF BUILDING.
HE that alters an old house is tied as a translator to the original, and is confined to the
fancy of the first builder. Such a man were
unwise to pluck down good old buildings, to
erect, perchance, worse new. But those that
raise a new house from the ground are blameworthy if they make it not handsome, seeing
to them  method and confusion are both at a




OF BUILDING.             201
rate. In building we must respect situation,
contrivance, receipt, strength, and beauty. Of
situation -
Chiefly choose a wholesome air. For air is
a dish one feeds on every minute, and, therefore, it need be good.  Wherefore great men,
(who may build where they please, as poor
men where they can,) if herein they prefer
their profit above their health, I refer them to
their physicians to make them pay for it accordingly.
Wood and water are two staple commodities
where they may be had. The former I confess hath made so much iron, that it must now
be bought with the more silver, and grows daily
dearer. But't is as well pleasant as profitable
to see a house cased with trees, like that of
Anchises in Troy.
" —-- quanquam secreta parentis
Anchisse domus arboribusque obtecta recessit."
The worst is, where a place is bald of wood,
no art can make it a periwig. As for water,
begin with Pindar's beginning, apLo-Tov lEv  v'8p.
The fort of Gogmagog Hills, nigh Cambridge,
is counted impregnable but for want of water;
the mischief of many houses, where servants
must bring the well on their shoulders.
Next, a pleasant prospect is to be respected.
A medley view (such as of water and land at
Greenwich) best entertains the eyes, refresh



202          THE HOLY S TA TB.
ing the wearied beholder with exchange of
objects. Yet, I know a more profitable prospect, where the owner can only see his own
land round about.
A fair entrance with an easy ascent gives a.
great grace to a building; where the hall is a
preferment out of the court, the parlor out of
the hall; not (as in some old buildings) where
the doors are so low, pigmies must stoop, and
the rooms so high that giants may stand upright. But now we are come to contrivance.
Let not thy common rooms be several, nor
thy several rooms be common. The hall (which
is a pandocheum) ought to lie open, and so
ought passages and stairs (provided that the
whole house be not spent in paths); chambers
and closets are to be private and retired.
Light (God's eldest daughter) is a principal
beauty in a building; yet it shines not alike
from all parts of heaven. An east window
welcomes the infant beams of the sun before
they are of strength to do any harm, and is
offensive to none but a sluggard.  A  south
window in summer is a chimney with a fire in't, and needs the screen of a curtain. In a
west window, in summer time towards night,
the sun grows low and over-familiar, with more
light than delight.  A north window is best
for butteries and cellars, where the beer will




OF BUILDING.            203
be sour for the sun's smiling on it. Thoroughlights are best for rooms of entertainment, and
windows on one side for dormitories. As for
receipt: -
A house had better be too little for a day
than too great for a year. And it's easier borrowing of thy neighbor a brace of chambers
for a night than a bag of money for a twelvemonth. It is vain, therefore, to proportion the
receipt to an extraordinary occasion, as those
who by overbuilding their houses have dilapidated their lands, and their states have been
pressed to death under the weight of their
house. As for strength:Country-houses must be substantives, able to
stand of themselves; not like city buildings,
supported by their neighbors on either side. By
strength we mean such as may resist weather
and time, not invasion, castles being out of date
in this peaceable age. As for the making of
moats round about, it is questionable whether
the fogs be not more unhealthfull than the fish
bring profit, or the water defence.  Beauty
remains behind as the last to be regarded,
because houses are made to be lived in, not
looked on.
Let not the front look asquint on a stranger,
but accost him right at his entrance. Uniformity also much pleaseth the eye; and't is observed that freestone, like a fair complexion,




204          THE HOLY STATE.
soonest waxeth old, whilst brick keeps her
beauty longest.
Let the office-houses observe the due distance from the mansion-house. Those are too
familiar which presume to be of the same pile
with it. The same may be said of stables and
barns; without which a house is like a city
without outworks, it can never hold out long.
Gardens also are to attend in their place.
When God (Genesis ii. 9) planted a garden
eastward, he made to grow out of the ground
every tree pleasant to the sight, and good for
food. Sure, he knew better what was proper
to a garden than those who nowadays therein
only feed the eyes and starve both taste and
smell.
To conclude; in building, rather believe any
man than an artificer in his own art for matter
of charges, not that they cannot, but will not
be faithful. Should they tell thee all the cost
at the first, it would blast a young builder in
the budding, and therefore they soothe thee up
till it hath cost thee something to confute them.
The spirit of building first possessed people
after the flood, which then caused the confusion
of languages, and since of the estate of many
a man.




OF ANGER.             205
OF ANGER.
ANGER is one of the sinews of the soul:
he that wants it hath a maimed mind, and
with Jacob, sinew-shrunk in the hollow of his
thigh, must needs halt. Nor is it good to converse with such as cannot be angry, and, with
the Caspian Sea, never ebb nor flow.  This
anger is either heavenly, when one is offended
for God; or hellish, when offended with God
and goodness; or earthly, in temporal matters: which earthly anger (whereof we treat)
may also be hellish, if for no cause, no great
cause, too hot, or too long.
Be not angry with any without a cause. If
thou beest, thou must not only, as the proverb
saith, be appeased without amends, (having
neither cost nor damage given thee,) but, as
our Saviour saith, " be in danger of the judgment."
Be not mortally angry with any for a venial
fault. He will make a strange combustion in
the state of his soul, who, at the landing of
every cockboat, sets the beacons on fire. To
be angry for every toy debases the worth of
thy anger; for he who will be angry for anything, will be angry for nothing.
Let not thy anger be so hot but that the
most torrid zone thereof may be habitable.




206          THE HOLY STATE.
Fright not people from thy presence with the
terror of thy intolerable impatience.  Some
men, like a tiled house, are long before they
take fire, but once on flame there is no coming
near to quench them.
Take heed of doing irrevocable acts in thy
passion; as the revealing of secrets, which
makes thee a bankrupt for society ever after;
neither do such things which once are done forever, so that no bemoaning can amend them.
Samson's hair grew again, but not his eyes:
time may restore some losses, others are never
to be repaired. Wherefore in thy rage make
no Persian decree, which cannot be reversed
or repealed; but rather Polonian laws, which
(they say) last but three days; do not in an
instant what an age cannot recompense.
Anger kept till the next morning, with manna, doth putrefy and corrupt; save that manna
corrupted not at all, and anger most of all, kept
the next Sabbath. St. Paul saith, "Let not
the sun go down on your wrath;" to carry
news to the antipodes in another world of thy
revengeful nature. Yet let us take the apostle's meaning rather than his words, with all
possible speed to depose our passion, not understanding him so literally that we may take leave
to be angry till sunset; then might our wrath
lengthen with the days; and men in Greenland, where day lasts above a quarter of a year,




OF EXPECTING PREFERMENT.    207
have plentiful scope of revenge. And as the
English (by command from William the Conqueror) always raked up their fire and put out
their candles when the curfew-bell was rung,
let us then also quench all sparks of anger and
heat of passion.
He that keeps anger long in his bosom giveth
place to the devil. And why should we make
room for him, who will crowd in too fast of himself? Heat of passion makes our souls to chap,
and the devil creeps in at the crannies. Yea,
a furious man in his fits may seem possessed
with a devil: foams, fumes, tears himself, is
deaf and dumb in effect, to hear or speak reason; sometimes wallows, stares, stamps, with
fiery eyes and flaming cheeks. Had Narcissus
himself seen his own face when he had been
angry, he could never have fallen in love with
himself.
OF EXPECTING PREFERMENT.
THERE are as many several tenures of
expectation as of possession; some nearer,
some more remote; some grounded on strong,
others on weaker reasons. (As for a groundless expectation, it is a wilful self-delusion.)
We come to instructions how men should manage their hopes herein.




208          THE HOLY STATE.
Hope not for impossibilities. For though the
object of hope be futurum possibile, yet some
are so mad as to feed their expectation on
things, though not in themselves, yet to them
impossible, if we consider the weakness of
the means whereby they seek to attain them.
He needs to stand on tiptoes that hopes
to touch the moon; and those who expect
what in reason they cannot expect, may
expect.
Carefully survey what proportion the means
thou hast bear to the end thou expectest.
Count not a courtier's promise of course a specialty that he is bound to prefer thee. Seeing
compliments oftentimes die in the speaking,
why should thy hopes (grounded on them) live
longer than the hearing? Perchance the text
of his promise intended but common courtesies,
which thy apprehension expounds speedy and
special favors. Others make up the weakness
of their means with conceit of the strength of
their deserts, foolishly thinking that their own
merits will be the undoubted patrons to present
them to all void benefices.
The heir-apparent to the next preferment
may be disinherited by an unexpected accident.
A gentleman, servant to the Lord Admiral
HIoward, was suitor to a lady above his deserts,
grounding the confidence of his success on his
relation to so honorable a lord; which lord gave




OF EXPECTING  PREFERMENT.              209
the anchor as badge of his office; and therefore
this suitor wrote in a window,"If I be bold,
The anchor is my hold."
But his corrival to the same mistress, coming
into the same room, wrote under,"Yet fear the worst:
What if the cable burst? "
Thus useless is the anchor of hope (good for
nothing but to deceive those that rely on it), if
the cable or small cords of means and causes
whereon it depends fail and miscarry. Daily
experience tenders too many examples. A
gentleman who gave a basilisk for his arms or
crest, promised to make a young kinsman of
his his heir, which kinsman, to ingratiate himself, painted a basilisk in his study, and beneath it these verses: -
"Falleris aspectu basiliscum occidere, Plini,
Nam vitse nostrae spem basiliscus alit."
"The basilisk's the only stay
My life preserving still;
Pliny, thou li'dst when thou didst say
The basilisk doth kill."
But this rich gentleman dying, frustrated
his expectation, and bequeathed all his estate
to another; whereupon the epigram was thus
altered: -
"Certe aluit, sed spe vana, spes vana venenum:
Ignoscas, Plini, verus es historicus."
14




210          THE HOLY STATE.
"Indeed, vain hopes to me he gave,
Whence I my poison drew:
Pliny, thy pardon now I crave,
Thy writings are too true."
Proportion thy expenses to what thou hast
in possession, not to thy expectancies. Otherwise, he that feeds on wind must needs be
griped with the colic at last.
Imbrue not thy soul in bloody wishes of his
death who parts thee and thy preferment, - a
murder the more common because one cannot
be arraigned for it on earth.  But those are
charitable murderers which wish them in heaven, not so much that they may have ease at
their journey's end, but because they must
needs take death in the way.
In earthly matters expectation takes up more
joy on trust than the fruition of the thing is
able to discharge.  The lion is not so fierce
as painted; nor are matters so fair as the
pencil of the expectant limns them out in his
hopes. They forecount their wives fair, fruitfui, and rich, without any fault; their children
witty, beautiful, and dutiful, without any frowardness: and as St. Basil held that roses
in paradise, before man's fall, grew without
prickles, they abstract the pleasures of things
from the troubles annexed to them, which,
when they come to enjoy, they must take both
together.




OF MEMORY.             211
When our hopes break, let our patience
hold: relying on God's providence without
murmuring, who often provides for men above
what we can think or desire. When Robert
Holgate could not peaceably enjoy his small
living in Lincolnshire, because of the litigiousness of a neighboring knight, coming to London to right himself, he came into the favor of
King Henry the Eighth, and got by degrees
the archbishopric of York. Thus God sometimes defeats our hopes, or disturbs our possession of lesser favors, thereby to bestow on his
servants better blessings, if not here, hereafter.
OF MEMORY.
IT is the treasure-house of the mind, wherein
the monuments thereof are kept and preserved.  Plato makes it the mother of the
Muses; Aristotle sets it one degree further,
making experience the mother of arts, memory
the parent of experience. Philosophers place
it in the rear of the head; and it seems the
mine of memory lies there, because there naturally men dig for it, scratching it when they
are at a loss. This again is twofold: one, the
simple retention of things; the other, a regaining them when forgotten.




212          THE HOLY STATE.
Brute creatures equal, if not exceed, men in
a bare retentive memory. Through how many
labyrinths of woods, without other clue of thread
than natural instinct, doth the hunted hare
return to her muce! How doth the little bee,
flying into several meadows and gardens, sipping of many cups, yet never intoxicated,
through an ocean (as I may say) of air, steadily steer herself home, without help of card or
compass!  But these cannot play an aftergame, and recover what they have forgotten,
which is done by the meditation of discourse.
Artificial memory is rather a trick than an
art, and more for the gain of the teacher than
profit of the learners; like the tossing of a pike,
which is no part of the postures and motions
thereof, and is rather for ostentation than use,
to show the strength and nimbleness of the
arm, and is often used by wandering soldiers as
an introduction to beg. Understand it of the
artificial rules which at this day are delivered by
memory-mountebanks; for, sure, an art thereof may be made (wherein as yet the world is
defective), and that no more destructive to natural memory than spectacles are to eyes, which
girls in Holland wear from twelve years of age.
But till this be found out, let us observe these
plain rules:First, soundly infix in thy mind what thou
desirest to remember.  What wonder is it if




OF MEMORY.              213
agitation of business jog that out of thy head
which was there rather tacked than fastened?
Whereas those notions which get in by violenta
possessio, will abide there till ejectio firma, sickness or extreme age, dispossess them.  It is
best knocking in the nail overnight, and clinching it the next morning.
Overburden not thy memory to make so
faithful a servant a slave. Remember Atlas
was weary. Have as much reason as a camel
to rise when thou hast thy full load. Memory,
like a purse, if it be over-full that it cannot
shut, all will drop out of it. Take heed of a
gluttonous curiosity to feed on many things,
lest the greediness of the appetite of thy memory spoil the digestion thereof:  Beza's case
was peculiar and memorable: being above
fourscore years of age, he perfectly could say
by heart any Greek chapter in St. Paul's epistles, or anything else which he had learnt long
before, but forgot whatsoever was newly told
him; his memory, like an inn, retaining old
guests, but having no room to entertain new.
Spoil not thy memory with thine own jealousy, nor make it bad by suspecting it. How
canst thou find that true which thou wilt not
trust? St. Augustine tells us of his friend
Simplicius, who, being asked, could tell all Virgil's verses backward and forward, and yet the
same party vowed to God that he knew not




214          THE HOLY STATE.
that he could do it till they did try him. Sure,
there is concealed strength in men's memories,
which they take no notice of.
Marshal thy notions into a handsome method.
One will carry twice more weight, trussed and
packed up in bundles, than when it lies untowardly flapping and hanging about his shoulders.
Things orderly fardled up under heads are
most portable.
Adventure not all thy learning in one bottom, but divide it betwixt thy memory and thy
note-books. He that with Bias carries all his
learning about him in his head will utterly be
beggared and bankrupt if a violent disease, a
merciless thief, should rob and strip him. I
know some have a commonplace against commonplace books, and yet, perchance, will privately make use of what publicly they declaim
against. A commonplace book contains many
notions in garrison, whence the owner may
draw out an army into the field on competent warning.
Moderate diet and good air preserve memory; but what air is best I dare not define,
when such great ones differ. Some say a pure
and subtle air is best, another commends a thick
and foggy air. For the Pisans, sited in the
fens and marshes of Arnus, have excellent
memories, as if the foggy air were a cap for
their heads.




OF FANCY.              215
Thankfulness to God for it continues the
memory; whereas some proud people have
been visited with such oblivion that they have
forgotten their own names. Staupitius, tutor
to Luther, and a godly man, in a vain ostentation of his memory, repeated Christ's genealogy (Matt. i.) by heart in his sermon, but
being out about the captivity of Babylon, "I
see," saith he, " God resisteth the proud," and
so betook himself to his book.
Abuse not thy memory to be sin's register,
nor make advantage thereof for wickedness.
Excellently Augustine,-Quidam vero pessimi
memorid sunt mirabili, qui tanto pejores sunt,
quanto minus possunt, quce male cogitant, oblivisci.
OF FANCY.
I T is an inward sense of the soul for a while
retaining and examining things brought in
thither by the common sense. It is the most
boundless and restless faculty of the soul; for
whilst the understanding and the will are kept
as it were in libera custodia to their objects of
verum and bonum, the fancy is free from all
engagements. It digs without spade, sails without ship, flies without wings, builds without




216          THE HOLY STATE.
charges, fights without bloodshed, in a moment
striding from the centre to the circumference
of the world, by a kind of omnipotency creating and annihilating things in an instant; and
things divorced in nature are married in fancy,
as in a lawful place. It is also most restless;
whilst the senses are bound, and reason in a
manner asleep, fancy, like a sentinel, walks the
round, ever working, never wearied.  The
chief diseases of the fancy are, either that they
are too wild and high-soaring, or else too low
and grovelling, or else too desultory and overvoluble. Of the first:If thy fancy be but a little too rank, age
itself will correct it.  To lift too high is no
fault in a young horse, because with travelling
he will mend it for his own ease.  Thus lofty
fancies in young men will come down of themselves, and in process of time the overplus will
shrink to be but even measure. But if this
will not do it, then observe these rules.
Take part always with thy judgment against
thy fancy in anything wherein they shall dissent. If thou suspectest thy conceits too luxuriant, herein account thy suspicion a legal
conviction, and damn whatsoever thou doubtest of. Warily Tully,-Bene monent, qui vetant
quicquam facere, de quo dubitas, cequurn sit an
iniquum.
Take the advice of a faithful friend, and sub



OF FANCY.             217
mit thy inventions to his censure. When thou
pennest an oration, let him have the power of
index expurgatorius, to expunge what he pleaseth; and do not thou like a fond mother cry
if the child of thy brain be corrected for playing the wanton.  Mark the arguments and
reasons of his alterations, why that phrase least
proper, this passage more cautious and advised,
and after a while thou shalt perform the place
in thine own person, and not go out of thyself
for a censurer. If thy fancy be too low and
humble,
Let thy judgment be king but not tyrant
over it, to condemn harmless, yea, commendable conceits.  Some, for fear their orations
should giggle, will not let them smile. Give it
also liberty to rove, for it will not be extravagant.  There is no danger that weak folks if
they walk abroad will straggle far, as wanting
strength.
Acquaint thyself with reading poets, for
there fancy is in her throne; and in time the
sparks of the author's wit will catch hold on
the reader and inflame him with love, liking,
and desire of imitation. I confess there is
more required to teach one to write than to
see a copy; however, there is a secret force
of fascination in reading poems to raise and
provoke fancy. If thy fancy be over-voluble,
then




218           THrE HOLY STATE.
Whip this vagrant home to the first object
whereon it should be settled. Indeed, nimbleness is the perfection of this faculty, but levity
the bane of it. Great is the difference betwixt
a swift horse and a skittish, that will stand on
no ground. Such is the ubiquitary fancy, which
will keep long residence on no one subject,
but is so courteous to strangers that it ever
welcomes that conceit most which comes last;
and new species supplant the old ones before
seriously considered. If this be the fault of
thy fancy, I say whip it home to the first object whereon it should be settled.  This do as
often as occasion requires, and by degrees the
figitive servant will learn to abide by his work
without running away.
Acquaint thyself by degrees with hard and
knotty studies, as school-divinity, which will
clog thy over-nimble fancy. True, at the first
it will be as welcome to thee as a prison, and
their very solutions will seem knots unto thee.
But take not too much at once, lest thy brain
turn edge. Taste it first as a potion for physic,
and by degrees thou shalt drink it as beer for
thirst: practice will make it pleasant. Mathematics are also good for this purpose: if beginning to try a conclusion, thou must make an
end, lest thou losest thy pains that are past,
and must proceed seriously and exactly.  I
meddle not with those bedlam fancies, all whose




OF FANCY.             219
conceits are antiques, but leave them for the
physician to purge with hellebore.
To clothe low-creeping matter with highflown language is not fine fancy, but flat foolery.  It rather loads than raises a wren to
fasten the feathers of an ostrich to her wings.
Some men's speeches are like the high mountains in Ireland, having a dirty bog in the top
of them; the very ridge of them in high words
having nothing of worth, but what rather stalls
than delights the auditor.
Fine fancies in manufactures invent engines
rather pretty than useful; and commonly one
trade is too narrow for them. They are better
to project new ways than to prosecute old, and
are rather skilful in many mysteries than thriving in one. They affect not voluminous inventions, wherein many years must constantly
be spent to perfect them, except there be in
them variety of pleasant employment.
Imagination, the work of the fancy, hath
produced real effects. Many serious and sad
examples hereof may be produced: I will only
insist on a merry one. A gentleman having
led a company of children beyond their usual
journey, they began to be weary, and jointly
cried to him to carry them; which, because of
their multitude, he could not do, but told them
he would provide them horses to ride on.
Then cutting little wands out of the hedge




220          THE HOLY STA TE.
as nags for them, and a great stake as a gelding for himself, thus mounted, fancy put mettle
into their legs, and they came cheerfully home.
Fancy runs most furiously when a guilty
conscience drives it. One that owed much
money, and had many creditors, as he walked
London streets in the evening, a tenter-hook
catched his cloak. "At whose suit? " said he,
conceiving some bailiff had arrested him. Thus
guilty consciences are afraid where no fear is,
and count every creature they meet a sergeant
sent from God to punish them.
OF NATURAL FOOLS.
THEY have the cases of men, and little else
of them besides speech and laughter. And
indeed it may seem strange, that, risibile being
the property of man alone, they who have least
of man should have most thereof, laughing
without cause or measure.
Generally, nature hangs out a sign of simplicity in the face of a fool; and there is enough
in his countenance for a hue and cry to take
him on suspicion: or else it is stamped on the
figure of his body; their heads sometimes so
little that there is no room for wit; sometimes
so long that there is no wit for so much room.




OF NATURAL FOOLS.           221
Yet some by their faces may pass current
enough till they cry themselves down by their
speaking. Thus men know the bell is cracked
when they hear it tolled; yet some that have
stood out the assault of two or three questions,
and have answered pretty rationally, have
afterwards, of their own accord, betrayed and
yielded themselves to be fools.
The oaths and railing of fools is oftentimes
no fault of theirs but their teachers.  The
Hebrew word barak signifies to bless, and to
curse; and't is the speaker's pleasure if he
use it in the worst acceptation. Fools of themselves are equally capable to pray and to swear;
they, therefore, have the greatest sin who by
their example or otherwise teach them so to
do.
One may get wisdom by looking on a fool.
In beholding him, think how much thou art
beholden to him  that suffered thee not to be
like him: only God's pleasure put a difference
betwixt you. And consider that a fool and a
wise man are alike both in the starting-place,
their birth, and at the post, their death; only
they differ in the race of their lives.
It is unnatural to laugh at a natural. How
can the object of thy pity be the subject of thy
pastime? I confess sometimes the strangeness,
and, as I may say, witty simplicity of their
actions may extort a smile from a serious man,




222          THE HOLY STATE.
who at the same time may smile at them and
sorrow for them. But it is one thing to laugh
at them in transitu, a snap and away, and another to make a set meal in jeering them, and
as the Philistines, to send for Samson to make
them sport.
To make a trade of laughing at a fool is the
highwav to become one. Tully confesseth that
whilst he laughed at one Hircus, a very ridiculous man, dum illum rideo pene factus sum
ille: and one telleth us of Gallus Vibius, a
man first of great eloquence, and afterwards
of great madness, which seized not on him
so much by accident as his own affectation,
so long mimically imitating madmen that he
became one.
Many have been the wise speeches of fools,
though not so many as the foolish speeches of
wise men.  Now the wise speeches of these
silly souls proceed from one of these reasons:
either because talking much and shooting often
they must needs hit the mark sometimes,
though not by aim, by hap; or else, because a
fool's mediocriter is optime, sense from  his
mouth, a sentence, and a tolerable speech cried
up for an apothegm; or, lastly, because God
may sometimes illuminate them, and, especially
towards their death, admit them to the possession of some part of reason. A poor beggar in
Paris, being very hungry, stayed so long in a




OF NATURAL FOOLS.          223
cook's shop, who was dishing up of meat, till
his stomach was satisfied with the only smell
thereof. The choleric covetous cook demanded
of him to pay for his breakfast. The poor man
denied it, and the controversy was referred
to the deciding of the next man that should
pass by, which chanced to be the most notorious idiot in the whole city.  He, on the relation of the matter, determined that the poor
man's money should be put betwixt two empty
dishes, and the cook should be recompensed
with the jingling of the poor man's money,
as lie was satisfied with the only smell of the
cook's meat. And this is affirmed by credible writers as no fable, but an undoubted fact.
More waggish was that of a rich landed fool,
whom a courtier had begged, and carried about
to wait on him. He, coming with his master
to a gentleman's house where the picture of a
fool was wrought in a fair suit of arras, cut the
picture out with a penknife. And being chidden for so doing, "You have more cause," said
he, " to thank me; for if my master had seen
the picture of the fool, he would have begged
the hangings of the king, as he did my lands."
When the standers-by comforted a natural
which lay on his death-bed, and told him that
four proper fellows should carry his body to the
church: "Yea," quoth he, " but I had rather
by half go thither myself;" and then prayed




224          THE HOLY STATE.
to God at his last gasp not to require more of
him than he gave him.
As for a changeling, which is not one child
changed for another, but one child on a sudden
much changed from itself; and for a jester,
which some count a necessary evil in a court,
an office which none but he that hath wit can
perform, and none but he that wants wit will
perform, I conceive them not to belong to the
present subject.
OF RECREATIONS.
RECREATION is a second creation, when
weariness hath almost annihilated one's
spirits. It is the breathing of the soul, which
otherwise would be stifled with continual business. We may trespass in them, if using such
as are forbidden by the lawyer as against the
statutes; physician, as against health; divine,
as against conscience.
Be well satisfied in thy conscience of the
lawfulness of the recreation thou usest. Some
fight against cock-fighting, and bait bull and
bear-baiting,' because man is not to be a common barrator to set the creatures at discord;
and seeing antipathy betwixt creatures was
kindled by man's sin, what pleasure can he
take to see it burn? Others are of the con



OF RECREATIONS.           225
trary opinion, and that Christianity gives us a
placard to use these sports; and that man's
charter of dominion over the creatures enables
him to employ them as well for pleasure as
necessity.  In these, as in all other doubtful
recreations, be well assured first of the legality
of them. He that sins against his conscience,
sins with a witness.
Spill not the morning (the quintessence of
the day) in recreations. For sleep itself is a
recreation; add not therefore sauce to sauce;
and he cannot properly have any title to be
refreshed who was not first faint.  Pastime,
like wine, is poison in the morning. It is then
good husbandry to sow the head, which hath
lain fallow all night, with some serious work.
Chiefly, intrench not on the Lord's day, to use
unlawful sports; this were to spare thine own
flock, and to shear God's lamb.
Let thy recreations be ingenious, and bear
proportion with thine age. If thou sayest with
Paul, "When I was a child I did as a child,"
say also with him, " But when I was a man I
put away childish things."   Wear also the
child's coat, if thou usest his sports.
Take heed of boisterous and over-violent
exercises. Ringing oftentimes hath made good
music on the bells, and put men's bodies out of
tune, so that by overheating themselves they
have rung their own passing-bell.
15




226          THE HOLY STATE.
Yet the ruder sort of people scarce count
anything a sport which is not loud and violent.
The Muscovite women esteem none loving husbands except they beat their wives.'T is no
pastime with country clowns that cracks not
pates, breaks not shins, bruises not limbs, tumbles and tosses not all the body. They think
themselves not warm in their gears till they
are all on fire; and count it but dry sport till
they swim in their own sweat. Yet I conceive
the physicians' rule in exercises, ad ruborem but
non ad sudorem, is too scant measure.
Refresh that part of thyself which is most
wearied. If thy life be sedentary, exercise thy
body; if stirring and active, recreate thy mind.
But take heed of cozening thy mind, in setting
it to do a double task under pretence of giving
it a play-day, as in the labyrinth of chess, and
other tedious and studious games.
Yet recreations distasteful to some dispositions relish best to others. Fishing with an
angle is to some rather a torture than a pleasure, to stand an hour as mute as the fish they
mean to take: yet herewithal Doctor Whitaker
was much delighted. When some noblemen
had gotten William Cecil, Lord Burleigh and
Treasurer of England, to ride with them ahunting, and the sport began to be cold, " What
call you this? " said the Treasurer. " Oh now,"
said they, " the dogs are at a fault."  " Yea,"




OF RECREATIONS.          227
quoth the Treasurer,'" take me again in such
a fault, and I'1 give you leave to punish me."
Thus as soon may the same meat please all
palates as the same sport suit with all dispositions.
Running, leaping, and dancing, the descants
on the plain song of walking, are all excellent
exercises. And yet those are the best recrealtions which, besides refreshing, enable, at least
dispose, men to some other good ends. Bowling teaches men's hands and eyes mathematics
and the rules of proportion; swimming hath
saved many a man's life, when himself hath
been both the wares and the ship; tilting and
fencing is war without anger; and manly sports
are the grammar of military performance.
But, above all, shooting is a noble recreation,
and a half liberal art. A rich man told a poor
man that he walked to get a stomach for his
meat: "And I," said the poor man, " walk to
get meat for my stomach."  Now  shooting
would have fitted both their turns; it provides
food when men are hungry, and helps digestion
when they are full. King Edward the Sixth,
though he drew no strong bow, shot very well;
and when once John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, commended him for hitting the
mark, "You shot better," quoth the King,
"when you shot off my good uncle Protector's
head."




228          THE HOLY STATE.
Some sports being granted to be lawful, more
propend to be ill than well used. Such I count
stage -plays, when made always the actor's
work, and often the spectator's recreation.
Zeuxis, the curious picturer, painted a boy
holding a dishful of grapes in his hand, done
so lively that the birds being deceived flew to
peck the grapes. But Zeuxis, in an ingenious
choler, was angry with his own workmanship.
" Had I," said he, " made the boy as lively as
the grapes, the birds would have been afraid to
touch them." Thus two things are set forth
to us in stage-plays: some grave sentences,
prudent counsels, and punishment of vicious
examples; and with these, desperate oaths,
lustful talk, and riotous acts are so personated
to the life, that wantons are tickled with delight, and feed their palates upon them.  It
seems the goodness is not portrayed out with
equal accents of liveliness as the wicked things
are; otherwise men would be deterred from
vicious courses, with seeing the woful success
which follows them. But the main is, wanton
speeches on stages are the devil's ordinance
to beget badness; but I question whether the
pious speeches spoken there be God's ordinance to increase goodness, as wanting both
his institution and benediction.
Choke not thy soul with immoderate pouring
in the cordial of pleasures. The creation lasted




OF TOMBS.             229
but six days of the first week: profane they
whose recreation lasts seven days every week.
Rather abridge thyself of thy lawful liberty
herein; it being a wary rule which St. Gregory gives us,-Solus in illicitis non cadit, qui
se aliquando et a licitis caute restrinyit. And
then recreations shall both strengthen labor
and sweeten rest, and we may expect God's
blessing and protection on us in following them,
as well as in doing our work; for he that saith
grace for his meat, in it prays also to God to
bless the sauce unto him. As for those that
will not take lawful pleasure, I am afraid they
will take unlawful pleasure, and by lacing themselves too hard grow awry on one side.
OF TOMBS
TOMBS are the clothes of the dead: a grave
is but a plain suit, and a rich monument is
one embroidered.  Most moderate men have
been careful for the decent interment of their
corpses. Few of the fond mind of Arbogastus,
an Irish saint, and bishop of Spires in Germany,
who would be buried near the gallows, in imitation of our Saviour, whose grave was in Mount
Calvary near the place of execution.'T is a provident way to make one's tomb in




230            THE HOLY STATE.
one's lifetime; both hereby to prevent the negligence of heirs, and to mind him of his mortality. Virgil tells us that when bees swarm in
the air, and two armies, meeting together, fight
as it were a set battle with great violence, cast
but a little dust upon them and they will be
quiet, -
"Hi motus animorum, atque haec certamina tanta
Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescunt."
"These stirrings of their minds and strivings vast,
If but a little dust on them be cast,
Are straightways stinted, and quite overpast."
Thus the most ambitious motions and
thoughts of man's mind are quickly quelled
when dust is thrown on him, whereof his foreprepared sepulchre is an excellent remembrancer.
Yet some seem to have built their tombs,
therein to bury their thoughts of dying, never
thinking thereof, but embracing the world with
greater greediness. A gentleman made choice
of a fair stone, and intending the same for his
grave-stone, caused it to be pitched up in a
field a pretty distance from his house, and used
often to shoot at it for his exercise. "Yea,
but," said a wag that stood by, " you would be
loath, sir, to hit the mark;" and so are many
unwilling to die, who, notwithstanding, have
erected their monuments.
Tombs ought in some sort to be proportioned




OF TOM1BS.             231
not to the wealth, but deserts of the party interred. Yet may we see some rich man of
mean worth loaden under a tomb big enough
for a prince to bear. There were officers appointed in the Grecian games, who always, by
public authority, did pluck down the statues
erected to the victors, if they exceeded the
true symmetry and proportion of their bodies.
We need such nowadays to order monuments
to men's merits, chiefly to reform such depopulating tombs as have no good fellowship with
them, but engross all the room, leaving neither
seats for the living nor graves for the dead. It
was a wise and thrifty law which Reutha, King
of Scotland, made, that noblemen should have
so many pillars, or long pointed stones, set on
their sepulchres as they had slain enemies in
the wars. If this order were also enlarged to
those who in peace had excellently deserved
of the Church or commonwealth, it might well
be revived.
Over-costly tombs are only baits for sacrilege. Thus sacrilege hath beheaded that peerless prince, King Henry the Fifth, the body of
whose statue on his tomb in Westminster was
covered over with silver plate gilded, and his
head of massy silver; both which now are
stolen away: yea, hungry palates will feed on
coarser meat. I had rather Mr. Stow,* than
* In the Description of London.




232          THE HOLY STATE.
I, should tell you of a nobleman who sold the
monuments of noblemen, in St. Augustine's
Church in Broad Street, for an hundred
pounds, which cost many thousands, and in the
place thereof made fair stabling for horses; as
if Christ, who was born in a stable, should be
brought into it the second time. It was not
without cause in the civil law that a wife might
be divorced from her husband, if she could
prove him to be one that had broken the sepulchres of the dead: for it was presumed he must
needs be a tyrannical husband to his wife, who
had not so much mercy as to spare the ashes
of the departed.
The shortest, plainest, and truest epitaphs
are best. I say, the shortest; for when a passenger sees a chronicle written on a tomb, he
takes it on trust some great man lies there
buried, without taking pains to examine who
he is. Mr. Cambden, in his " Remains," presents us with examples of great men that had
little epitaphs.  And when once I asked a
witty gentleman, an honored friend of mine,
what epitaph was fittest to be written on Mr.
Cambden's tomb, " Let it be," said he, " CAMBDEN S REMAINS."
I say also the plainest; for except the sense
lie above-ground, few will trouble themselves
to dig for't. Lastly, it must be true: not as
in some monuments, where the red veins in the




OF DEFORMITY.          233
marble may seem to blush at the falsehoods
written on it. He was a witty man that first
taught a stone to speak, but he was a wicked
man that taught it first to lie.
A good memory is the best monument. Others are subject to casualty and time, and we
know that the pyramids themselves, doting
with age, have forgotten the names of their
founders. To conclude, let us be careful to
provide rest for our souls, and our bodies will
provide rest for themselves. And let us not
be herein like unto gentlewomen, which care
not to keep the inside of the orange, but candy
and preserve only the outside thereof.
OF DEFORMITY.
DEFORMITY is either natural, voluntary,
or adventitious, being either caused by
God's unseen providence (by men nicknamed
chance) or by man's cruelty. We will take
them in order.
If thou beest not so handsome as thou
wouldst have been, thank God thou art no
more unhandsome than thou art.'T is his
mercy thou art not the mark for passengers'
fingers to point at, an heteroclite in nature,
with some member defective or redundant.




234         TIIE HOLY STATE.
Be glad that thy clay cottage hath all the
necessary rooms thereto belonging, though the
outside be not so fairly plastered as some
others.
Yet is it lawful and commendable by art to
correct the defects and deformities of nature.
Ericthonius being a goodly man from the girdle
upwards, but, as the poets feign, having downwards the body of a serpent (moralize him to
have had some defect in his feet), first invented
chariots, wherein he so sat that the upper parts
of him might be seen, and the rest of his body
concealed.  Little heed is to be given to his
lying pen, who maketh Anna Bollen, mother
to Queen Elizabeth, the first finder-out and
wearer of ruffs, to cover a wen she had in her
neck. Yet the matter's not much; such an
addition of art being without any fraud or
deceit.
Mock not at those who are misshapen by
nature. There is the same reason of the poor
and of the deformed; he that despiseth them,
despiseth God that made them. A poor man
is a picture of God's own making, but set in
a plain frame, not gilded; a deformed man is
also his workmanship, but not drawn with even
lines and lively colors: the former, not for want
of wealth, as the latter not for want of skill, but
both for the pleasure of the maker.  As for
Aristotle, who would have parents expose their




OF DEFORMITY.           235
deformed children to the wide world without
caring for them, his opinion herein, not only
deformed but most monstrous, deserves rather
to be exposed to the scorn and contempt of all
men.
Some people, handsome by nature, have
wilfully deformed themselves; such as wear
Bacchus his colors in their faces, arising not
from having, but being, bad livers. When the
woman (1 Kings, iii. 21) considered the child
that was laid by her, " Behold," said she, " it
was not my son which I did bear." Should
God survey the faces of many men and women,
he would not own and acknowledge them for
those which he created, many are so altered in
color, and some in sex, women to men, and
men to women, in their monstrous fashions, so
that they who behold them cannot by the evidence of their apparel give up their verdict of
what sex they are.
Confessors which wear the badges of truth
are thereby made the more beautiful, though
deformed in time of persecution for Christ's
sake through men's malice. This made Constantine the Great to kiss the hole in the face
of Paphnutius, out of which the tyrant Maximinus had bored his eye for the profession of
the faith, the good emperor making much of
the socket even when the candle was put out.
Next these, wounds in war are most honor



236          THE HOLY STATE.
able: halting is the stateliest march of a soldier; and't is a brave sight to see the flesh
of an ancient as torn as his colors. He that
mocks at the marks of valor in a soldier's face,
is likely to live to have the brands of justice on
his own shoulders.
Nature oftentimes recompenseth deformed
bodies with excellent wits.  Witness zEsop,
than whose fables children cannot read an
easier, nor men a wiser book; for all latter
moralists do but write comments upon them.
Many jeering wits, who have thought to have
rid at their ease on the bowed backs of some
cripples, have by their unhappy answers been
unhorsed and thrown flat on their own backs.
A jeering gentleman commended a beggar,
who was deformed and little better than blind,
for having an excellent eye. " True," said the
beggar, " for I can discern an honest man from
such a knave as you are."
Their souls have been the chapels of sanctity, whose bodies have been the'spitals of
deformity. An emperor of Germany, coming
by chance on a Sunday into a church, found
there a most misshaped priest,pene portentum
naturce, insomuch as the emperor scorned and
contemned him. But when he heard him read
those words in the service, "for it is he that
made us, and not we ourselves," the emperor
checked his own proud thoughts, and made




OF PLANTATIONS.          237a
inquiry into the quality and condition of the
man, and finding him on examination to be
most learned and devout, he made him Archbishop of Colen, which place he did excellently discharge.
OF PLANTATIONS.
PLANTATIONS make mankind broader, as
generation makes it thicker.  To advance
a happy plantation, the undertakers, planters,
and place itself, must contribute their endeavors.
Let the prime undertakers be men of no
shallow heads, nor narrow fortunes; such as
have a real estate, so that, if defeated in their
adventure abroad, they may have a retreating
place at home, and such as will be contented
with their present loss to be benefactors to posterity.  But if the prince himself be pleased
not only to wink at them with his permission,
but also to smile on them with his encouragement, there is great hope of success; for then
he will grant them some immunities and privileges. Otherwise (infants must be swathed,
not laced) young plantations will never grow,
if straitened with as hard laws as settled commonwealths.
Let the planters be honest, skilful, and pain



238          THE HOLY STATE.
ful people. For if they be such as leap thither
from the gallows, can any hope for cream out
of scum? when men send (as I may say)
Christian savages to heathen savages. It was
rather bitterly than falsely spoken concerning
one of our western plantations (consisting most
of dissolute people), "that it was very like
unto England, as being spit out of the very
mouth of it." Nor must the planters be only
honest, but industrious also.  What hope is
there that they who were drones at home will
be bees abroad, especially if far off from any
to oversee them?
Let the place be naturally strong, or at leastwise capable of fortification.  For though, at
the first, planters are sufficiently fenced with
their own poverty, and though at the beginning
their worst enemies will spare them out of pity
to themselves, their spoil not countervailing the
cost of spoiling them, yet, when once they
have gotten wealth, they must get strength to
defend it. Here, know, islands are easily shut,
whereas continents have their doors ever open,
not to be bolted without great charges. Besides, unadvised are those planters who, having choice of ground, have built their towns in
places of a servile nature, as being overawed
and constantly commanded by some hills about
them.
Let it have a self-sufficiency, or some staple




OF PLAN TA TIONS.         239
commodity to balance traffic with other countries. As for a self-sufficiency, few countries
can stand alone, and such as can for matter
of want, will for wantonness lean on others.
Staple commodities are such as are never out
of fashion, as belonging to a man's being,being with comfort, being with delight, the luxury of our age having made superfluities necessary. And such a place will thrive the better
when men may say with Isaac, "IRehoboth,
now the Lord hath made room for us," when
new colonies come not in with extirpation of
the natives; for this is rather a supplanting
than a planting.
Let the planters labor to be loved and feared
of the natives; with whom let them use all
just bargaining, being as naked in their dealings with them as the other in their going,
keeping all covenants, performing all promises
with them. Let them embrace all occasions to
convert them, knowing that each convert is a
conquest; and it is more honor to overcome
paganism in one than to conquer a thousand
pagans.  As for the inscription of a deity in
their hearts, it need not be new written, but
only new scoured in them.  I am confident
that America (though the youngest sister of
the four) is now grown marriageable, and
daily hopes to get Christ to her husband by
the preaching of the gospel. This makes me




240          THE HOLY STATE.
attentively to listen after some Protestant firstfruits, in hope the harvest will ripen afterwards.
OF CONTENTMENT.
IT is one property which (they say) is required of those who seek for the philosopher's stone, that they must not do it with any
covetous desire to be rich; for otherwise they
shall never find it. But most true it is that
whosoever would have this jewel of contentment (which turns all into gold, yea, want into
wealth) must come with minds divested of all
ambitious and covetous thoughts; else are they
never likely to obtain it. We will describe
contentment first negatively.
It is not a senseless stupidity what becomes
of our outward estates.  God would have us
take notice of all accidents which from him
happen to us in worldly matters.  Had the
martyrs had the dead palsy before they went
to the stake to be burnt, their sufferings had
not been so glorious.
It is not a word-braving, or scorning of all
wealth in discourse.  Generally, those who
boast most of contentment have least of it.
Their very boasting shows that they want
something, and basely beg it, namely, com



OF CONTENTMTENT.          241
mendation. These, in their language, are like
unto kites in their flying, which mount in the
air so scornfully as if they disdained to stoop
for the whole earth, fetching about many
stately circuits: but what is the spirit these
conjurers with so many circles intend to raise?
A poor chicken, or perchance a piece of carrion: and so the height of the others' proud
boasting will humble itself for a little base
gain.
But it is an humble and willing submitting
ourselves to God's pleasure in all conditions.
One observeth (how truly I dispute not) that
the French naturally have so elegant and
graceful a carriage, that, what posture of body
soever in their salutations, or what fashion of
attire soever they are pleased to take on them,
it doth so beseem them that one would think
nothing can become them better. Thus contentment makes men carry themselves gracefully in wealth, want, in health, sickness, freedom, fetters, yea, what condition soever God
allots them.
It is no breach of contentment for men to
complain that their sufferings are unjust, as
offered by men; provided they allow them
for just, as proceeding from God, who useth
wicked men's injustice to correct his children.
But let us take heed that we bite not so high
at the handle of the rod as to fasten on his
16




242          THE H OLY STATE.
hand that holds it; our discontentments mounting so high as to quarrel with God himself.
It is no breach of contentment for men by
lawful means to seek the removal of their misery and bettering of their estate. Thus men
ought by industry to endeavor the getting of
more wealth, ever submitting themselves to
God's will. A lazy hand is no argument of a
contented heart. Indeed, he that is idle, and
followeth after vain persons, shall have enough;
but how? (Prov. xxviii. 19,) " shall have poverty enough."
God's spirit is the best schoolmaster to teach
contentment, — a schoolmaster who can make
good scholars, and warrant the success as well
as his endeavor. The school of sanctified afflictions is the best place to learn contentment
in: I say, sanctified; for naturally, like resty
horses, we go the worse for the beating, if God
bless not afflictions unto us.
Contentment consisteth not in adding more
fuel, but in taking away some fire; not in multiplying of wealth, but in subtracting men's
desires. Worldly riches, like nuts, tear many
clothes in getting them, spoil many teeth in
cracking them, but fill no belly with eating
them, obstructing only the stomach with toughness, and filling the bowels with windiness; yea.,
our souls may sooner surfeit than be satisfied
with earthly things. He that at first thought




OF CONTENTMENT.           243
ten thousand pounds too much for any one
man, will afterwards think ten millions too
little for himself.
Men create more discontents to themselves
than ever happened to them for others. We
read of our Saviour, that, at the burial of Lazarus, (John xi. 33,) r&Tpa4Ev &avrov," he troubled
himself," by his spirit raising his own passions,
though without any ataxy or sinful disturbance.
What was an act of power in him is an act of
weakness in other men: man disquieteth himself in vain with many causeless and needless
afflictions.
Pious meditations much advantage contentment in adversity. Such as these are: to consider, first, that more are beneath us than above
us; secondly, many of God's dear saints have
been in the same condition; thirdly, we want
rather superfluities than necessities; fourthly,
the more we have, the more we must account
for; fifthly, earthly blessings, through man's
corruption, are more prone to be abused than
well used; sixthly, we must leave all earthly
wealth at our death, "and riches avail not in
the day of wrath:" but, as some use to fill up
the stamp of light gold with dirt, thereby to
make it weigh the heavier, so it seems some
men load their souls with thick clay, to make
them pass the better in God's balance, but all
to no purpose; seventhly, the less we have,




244         THE HOLY STATE.
the less it will grieve us to leave this world;
lastly, it is the will of God, and therefore both
for his glory and our good, whereof we ought
to be assured. I have heard how a gentleman,
travelling in a misty morning, asked of a shepherd (such men being generally skilled in the
physiognomy of the heavens) what weather it
would be. " It will be," said the shepherd,
" what weather shall please me:" and being
courteously requested to express his meaning,
1" Sir," saith he, "it shall be what weather
pleaseth God, and what weather pleaseth God
pleaseth me." Thus contentment maketh men
to have even what they think fitting themselves, because submitting to God's will and
pleasure.
To conclude: a man ought to be like unto a
cunning actor, who, if he be enjoined to represent the person of some prince or nobleman,
does it with a grace and comeliness; if by and
by he be commanded to lay that aside and play
the beggar, he does that as willingly and as
well. But, as it happened in a tragedy (to
spare nanling the person and place), that one,
being to act Theseus, in " Hercules Furens,"
coming out of hell, could not for a long time
be persuaded to wear old sooty clothes proper
to his part, but would needs come out of hell
in a white satin doublet, so we are generally
loath, and it goes against flesh and blood to live




OF BOOOKS.            245
in a low and poor estate, but would fain act in
richer and handsomer clothes, till grace, with
much ado, subdues our rebellious stomachs to
God's will.
OF BOOKS.
SOLOMON saith truly, "Of making many
books there is no end; " so insatiable is the
thirst of men therein: as also endless is the
desire of many in buying and reading them.
But we come to our rules.
It is a vanity to persuade the world one hath
much learning by getting a great library. As
soon shall I believe every one is valiant that
hath a well-furnished armory. I guess good
housekeeping by the smoking, not the number
of the tunnels, as knowing that many of them
(built merely for uniformity) are without chimnneys, and more without fires. Once a dunce,
void of learning but full of books, flouted a
library-less scholar with these words, —Salve,
doctor sine libris: but the next day the scholar
coming into this jeerer's study crowded with
books, — Salvete, libri, saith he, sine doctore.
Few books well selected are best. Yet, as a
certain fool bought all the pictures that came
out, because he might have his choice; such is
the vain humor of many men in gathering of




246          THE HOLY S TATE.
books: yet when they have done all, they miss
their end, it being in the editions of authors as
in the fashions of clothes, when a man thinks
he hath gotten the latest and newest, presently
another newer comes out.
Some books are only cursorily to be tasted
of. Namely, first, voluminous books, the task
of a man's life to read them over; secondly,
auxiliary books, only to be repaired to on occasions; thirdly, such as are mere pieces of formality, so that if you look on them you look
through them; and he that peeps through the
casement of the index sees as much as if he
were in the house. But the laziness of those
cannot be excused who perfunctorily pass over
authors of consequence, and only trade in their
tables of contents.  These, like city-cheaters,
having gotten the names of all country gentlemen, make silly people believe they have long
lived in those places where they never were,
and flourish with skill in those authors they
never seriously studied.
The genius of the author is commonly discovered in the dedicatory epistle. Many place
the purest grain in the mouth of the sack for
chapmen to handle or buy; and from the dedication one may probably guess at the work,
saving some rare and peculiar exceptions.
Thus, when once a gentleman admired how
so pithy, learned, and witty a dedication was




OF BOOKS.             247
matched to a flat, dull, foolish book: " In truth,"
said another, " they may be well matched together, for I profess they are nothing akin."
Proportion an hour's meditation to an hour's
reading of a staple author. This makes a man
master of his learning, and dispirits the book
into the scholar.  The King of Sweden never
filed his men above six deep in one company,
because he would not have them lie in useless
clusters in his army, but so that every particular soldier might be drawn out into service.
Books that stand thin on the shelves, yet so as
the owner of them can bring forth every one
of them into use, are better than far greater
libraries.
Learning hath gained most by those books
by which the printers have lost. Arias Montanus, in printing the Hebrew Bible, (commonly called the Bible of the King of Spain,)
much wasted himself, and was accused in the
court of Rome for his good deed, and being
cited thither, pro tantorum  laborum prcemio
vix veniam impetravit.  Likewise, Christopher
Plantin, by printing of his curious interlineary
Bible in Antwerp, through the unseasonable
exactions of the king's officers, sunk and almost
ruined his estate. And our worthy English
knight, who set forth the golden-mouthed
Father* in a silver print, was a loser by it.
* Chrysostom.




248           TETE HOLY STATE.
Whereas foolish pamphlets prove most beneficial to the printers.  When a French printer
complained that he was utterly undone by
printing a solid serious book of Rabelais concerning physic, Rabelais, to make him recompense, made that his jesting, scurrilous work,
which repaired the printer's loss with advantage. Such books the world swarms too much
with. When one had set out a witless pamphlet, writing Finis at the end thereof, another
wittily wrote beneath it,
" Nay, there thou liest, my friend,
In writing foolish books there is no end."
And surely such scurrilous, scandalous papers do more than conceivable mischief. First,
their lusciousness puts many palates out of taste,
that they can never after relish any solid and
wholesome writers; secondly, they cast dirt on
the faces of many innocent persons, which,
dried on by continuance of time, can never
after be washed off; thirdly, the pamphlets of
this age may pass for records with the next,
(because publicly uncontrolled,) and what we
laugh at, our children may believe; fourthly,
grant the things true they jeer at, yet this
music is unlawful in any Christian church, to
play upon the sins and miseries of others, the
fitter object of the elegies than the satires of
all truly religious.
But what do I, speaking against multiplicity




OF TIME-SER VING.          249
of books in this age, who trespass in this nature
myself? What was a learned man's * compliment, may serve for my confession and conclusion:-Multi mei similes hoc morbo laborant, ut
cum scribere nesciant, tamen a scribendo temperare non possint.
OF TIME-SERVING.
THERE be four kinds of time-serving: first,
out of Christian discretion, which is commendable; second, out of human infirmity,
which is more pardonable; third, and fourth,
out of ignorance, or affectation, both which are
damnable: of them in order.
He is a good time-server that complies his
manners to the several ages of this life: pleasant in youth, without wantonness; grave in old
age, without frowardness.  Frost is as proper
for winter as flowers for spring. Gravity becomes the ancient; and a green Christmas is
neither handsome nor healthful.
He is a good time-server that finds out the
fittest opportunity for every action. God hath
made " a time for everything under the sun,"
save only for that which we do at all times, to
wit, sin.
* Erasmus.




25:0        tTHE HOLY STATE.
He is a good time-server that improves the
present for God's glory and his own salvation.
Of all the extent of time, only the instant is
that whllich we can call ours.
He is a good time-server that is pliant to the
times in matters of mere indifferency.  To
blame are they whose minds may seem to be
made of one entire bone without any joints:
they cannot bend at all, but stand as stiffly in
things of pure indifferency as in matters of
absolute necessity.
He is a good time-server that in time of persecution neither betrays God's cause nor his
own safety. And this he may do,
1. By lying hid both in his person and practice: though he will do no evil, he will forbear
the public doing of some good.  He hath as
good cheer in his heart, though he keeps not
open house, and will not publicly broach his
religion, till the palate of the times be better in
taste to relish it. " The prudent shall keep
silence in that time, for it is an evil time;"
though according to St. Peter's command we
are to "give a reason of our hope to every
one that asketh," namely, that asketh for his
instruction, but not for our destruction, especially if wanting lawful authority to examine
us. "Ye shall be brought," saith Christ, (no
need have they therefore to run,) "before
princes for my sake."




OF TIME-SER VING.         251
2. By flying away: if there be no absolute
necessity of his staying, no scandal given by
his flight; if he wants strength to stay it out
till death; and, lastly, if God openeth a fair
way for his departure: otherwise, if God bolts
the doors and windows against him, he is not
to creep out at the top of the chimney, and
to make his escape by unwarrantable courses.
If all should fly, truth would want champions
for the present; if none should fly, truth might
want champions for the future. We come now
to time-servers out of infirmity.
Heart of oak hath sometimes warped a little
in the scorching heat of persecution.  Their
want of true courage herein cannot be excused.
Yet many censure them for surrendering up
their forts after a long siege, who would have
yielded up their own at the first summons.
Oh, there is more required to make one valiant
than to call Craniner or Jewell coward, as if
the fire in Smithfield had been no hotter than
what is painted in the Book of Martyrs.
Yet afterwards they have come into their
former straightness and stiffness. The troops
which at first rather wheeled about than ran
away, have come in seasonable at last. Yea,
their constant blushing for shame of their former cowardliness hath made their souls ever
after look more modest and beautiful. Thus
Cranmer, who subscribed to Popery, grew




252          THE HOLY STATE.
valiant afterwards, and thrust his right hand
which subscribed first into fire, so that that
hand died (as it were) a malefactor, and all
the rest of his body died a martyr.
Some have served the times out of mere ignorance; gaping for company, as others gaped
before them, "Pater Noster," or, " Our Father."
I could both sigh and smile at the witty silmplicity of a poor old woman who had lived in
the days of Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth,
and said her prayers daily both in Latin and
English, and "let God," said she, "take to
himself which he likes best."
But worst are those who serve the times out
of mere affectation; doing as the times do, not
because the times do as they should do, but
merely for sinister respects, to ingratiate themselves.  We read of an Earl of Oxford fined
by King Henry the Seventh fifteen thousand
marks for having too many retainers. But how
many retainers hath time had in all ages? and
servants in all offices? yea, and chaplains too?
It is a very difficult thing to serve the times;
they change so frequently, so suddenly, and
sometimes so violently from one extreme to
another.  The times under Diocletian were
Pagan; under Constantine, Christian; under
Constantius, Arian; under Julian, Apostate;
under Jovian, Christian again; and all within
the age of man, the term of seventy years.




OF TIME-SER VING.         253
And would it not have wrenched and sprained
his soul with short turning, who in all these
should have been of the religion for the time
being?
Time-servers are oftentimes left in the lurch;
if they do not only give their word for the
times in their constant discourses, but also give
their bonds for them, and write in their defence. Such, when the times turn afterwards
to another extreme, are left in the briers, and
come off very hardly from the bill of their
hands; if they turn again with the times, none
will trust them; for who will make a staff of
an osier?
Miserable will be the condition of such timeservers when their master is taken from them;
when, as the angel swore, (Rev. x. 6,) that " time
shall be no longer."  Therefore is it best serving of him who is eternity, a master that can
ever protect us.
To conclude: he that intends to meet with
one in a great fair, and knows not where he is,
may sooner find him by standing still in some
principal place there, than by traversing it up
and down.  Take thy stand on some good
ground in religion, and keep thy station in a
fixed posture, never hunting after the times to
follow them, and an hundred to one they will
come to thee once in thy lifetime.




254          THE HOLY STATE.
OF MODERATION.
MODERATION "is the silken string running through the pearl-chain of all virtues." *  It appears both in practice and judgment: we will insist on the latter, and describe
it first negatively.
Moderation is not a halting betwixt two
opinions, when the through-believing of one
of them is necessary to salvation: no pity is to
be shown to such voluntary cripples. We read
(Acts xxvii. 12) of a haven in Crete, which
lay towards the southwest and towards the
northwest: strange, that it could have part of
two opposite points, north and south: sure, it
must be very winding. And thus some men's
souls are in such intricate postures, they lay
towards the Papists and towards the Protestants: such we count not of a moderate judgment, but of an immoderate unsettledness.
Nor is it a lukewarmness in those things
wherein God's glory is concerned. Herein it's a true rule, Non amat qui non zelat. And
they that are thus lukewarm here shall be too
hot hereafter in that oven wherein dough-baked
cakes shall be burnt.
But it is a mixture of discretion and charity
in one's judgment. Discretion puts a difference
* Bishop Hall.




OF MODERATION.,              255
betwixt things absolutely necessary to salvation
to be done and believed, and those which are
of a second sort and lower form, wherein more
liberty and latitude is allowed. In maintaining
whereof, the stiffness of the judgment is abated,
and suppled with charity towards his neighbor.
The lukewarm man eyes only his own ends
and particular profit; the moderate man aims
at the good of others, and unity of the church.
Yet such  moderate  men  are  commonly
crushed betwixt the extreme parties on both
sides. But what said Ignatius? " I am Christ's
wheat, and must be ground with the teeth of
beasts, that I may be made God's pure manchet."   Saints are born to suffer, and must
take it patiently. Besides, in this world generally they get the least preferment; it faring
with them as with the guest that sat in the
midst of the table, who could reach to neither
mess, above or beneath him: —
"Esuriunt medii, fines bene sunt saturati;
Dixerunt stulti, medium tenuere beati."
"Both ends o' th' table furnished are with meat,
Whilst they in middle nothing have to eat.
They were none of the wisest well I wist,
Who made bliss in the middle to consist."
Yet these temporal inconveniences of moderation are abundantly recompensed with other
better benefits: for
1. A  well-informed judgment in itself is a
preferment. Potamon began a sect of philoso



256          THE HOLY STATE.
phers called &KXEK7LKO, who wholly adhered to
no former sect, but chose out of all of them
what they thought best.  Surely such divines,
who in unimporting controversies extract the
probablest opinions from all professions, are
best at ease in their minds.
2. As the moderate man's temporal hopes
are not great, so his fears are the less. He
fears not to have the splinters of his party
(when it breaks) fly into his eyes, or to be
buried under the ruins of his side, if supprest.  He never pinned his religion on any
man's sleeve, no, not on "the arm of flesh,"
and therefore is free from all dangerous engagements.
3. His conscience is clear from raising schisms
in the Church. The Turks did use to wonder
much at our Englishmen for pinking or cutting
their clothes, counting them little better than
mad for their pains to make holes in whole
cloth, which time of itself would tear too soon.
But grant men may do with their own garments as their fancy adviseth them, yet woe be
to such who willingly cut and rend the seamless coat of Christ with dissensions.
4. His religion is more constant and durable; being here, in via, in his way to heaven,
and jogging on a good traveller's pace, he overtakes and outgoes many violent men, whose
over-hot, ill-grounded zeal was quickly tired.




OF MODERATION.           257
5. In matters of moment, indeed, none are
more zealous.  He thriftily treasured up his
spirits for that time, who, if he had formerly
rent his lungs for every trifle, he would have
wanted breath in points of importance.
6. Once in an age the moderate man is in
fashion: each extreme courts him  to make
them friends; and surely he hath a great advantage to be a peace-maker betwixt opposite
parties. Now whilst, as we have said, moderate men are constant to themselves,
Violent men reel from one extremity to another. Who would think that the East and
West Indies were so near together, whose
names speak them at diametrical opposition?
And yet their extremities are either the same
continent, or parted with a very narrow sea.
As the world is round, so we may observe a
circulation in opinions, and violent men turn
often round in their tenets.
Pride is the greatest enemy to moderation.
This makes men stickle for their opinions, to
make them fundamental. Proud men, having
deeply studied some additional point in divinity,
will strive to make the same necessary to salvation, to enhance the value of their own worth
and pains; and it must be fundamental in religion, because it is fundamental to their reputation. Yea, as love doth descend, and men
dote most on their grandchildren, so these are
17




258          THE HOLY STATE.
indulgent to the deductions of their deductions,
and consequential inferences to the seventh
generation, making them all of the foundation,
though scarce of the building of religion. Ancient Fathers made the creed symbolum  the
shot and total sum of faith. Since which, how
many arrearages and after-reckonings have
men brought us in? to which if we will not
pay our belief, our souls must be arrested without bail upon pain of damnation.  Next to
pride, popular applause is the greatest foe moderation hath, and sure they who sail with that
wind have their own vainglory for their haven.
To close up all, let men, on God's blessing,
soundly, yet wisely, whip and lash lukewarmness and time-serving, their thongs will never
fly in the face of true moderation, to do it any
harm; for, however men may undervalue it,
that Father spake most truly, —Sivirtutum finis
ille sit maximus, qui plurimorum smectat prefectum, moderatio prope omnium pulcherrin a est.
OF GRAVITY.
GRAVITY is the ballast of the soul, which
keeps the mind steady. It is either true
or counterfeit.
Natural dulness and heaviness of temper is




OF GRA VITY.            259
sometimes mistaken for true gravity in such
men in whose constitutions one of the tetrarch
elements, fire, may seem to be omitted. These
sometimes not only cover their defects, but get
praise:
" Sepe latet vitium proximitate boni."
They do wisely to counterfeit a reservedness,
and to keep their chests always locked, not for
fear any should steal treasure thence, but lest
some should look in and see that there is nothing within them.  Wonder not so much that
such men are grave, but wonder at them  if
they be not grave.
Affected gravity passes often for that which
is true: I mean with dull eyes, for in itself
nothing is more ridiculous; when one shall use
the preface of a mile to bring in a furlong of
matter, set his face and speech in a frame, and
to make men believe it is some precious liquor,
their words come out drop by drop. Such
men's vizards do sometimes fall from them, not
without the laughter of the beholders. One
was called "gravity" for his affected solemness, who afterwards being catched in a light
prank, was ever after to the day of his death
called " gravity-levity."
True gravity expresseth itself in gait, gesture,
apparel, and speech.  Vox qucedam est anini,
corporis motus.  As for speech, gravity enjoins it,




260          THE HOLY STATE.
1. Not to be over-much. "In the multitude
of words there wanteth not sin."  For of necessity many of them must be idle whose best
commendation is that they are good for nothing. Besides, dum otiosa verba cavere neyligimus, ad noxia pervenimus. And great talkers
discharge too thick to -take always true aim;
besides, it is odious in a company. A man full
of words, who took himself to be a grand wit,
made his brag that he was the leader of the
discourse in what company soever he came,
and "None," said he, " dare speak in my presence, if I hold my peace."  "No wonder,"
answered one, " for they are all struck dumb
at the miracle of your silence."
2. To be wise and discreet. Colossians iv. 6,
" Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt: " always-not only sometimes,
in the company of godly men. Tindal's being
in the room hindered a juggler that he could
not play his feats: (a saint's presence stops the
devil's elbow-room to do his tricks:) and so
some wicked men are awed into good discourse whilst pious people are present. But
it must be always " seasoned with salt," which
is the primum vivens et ultimurm moriens at a
feast, first brought and last taken away, and
set in the midst as most necessary thereunto.
" With salt," that is with wisdom and discretion, non salibus, sed sale; nor yet with smart



OF GRAVITY.              261
ing jeers, like those whose discourse is fire-salt,
speaking constant satires to the disgrace of
others.
That may be done privately without breach
of gravity, which may not be done publicly;
as when a father makes himself his child's
rattle, sporting with him till the father hath
devoured the wise man in him:
"Equitans in arundine longa."
Instead of stately steed,
Riding upon a reed.
Making play unto him, that one would think
he killed his own discretion, to bring his child
asleep. Such cases are no trespass on gravity;
and married men may claim their privilege, to
be judged by their peers, and may herein appeal from the censuring verdict of bachelors.
Nature in men is sometimes unjustly taxed
for a trespass against gravity.  Some have
active spirits, yea, their ordinary pace is a race.
Others have so scornful a carriage that he who
seeth them once may think them to be all
pride, whilst he that seeth them  often knows
them to have none. Others have, perchance,
a misbeseeming garb in gesture which they
cannot amend; that fork needing strong tines
wherewith one must thrust away nature. A
fourth sort are of a merry, cheerful disposition;
and God forbid all such should be condemned
for lightness. 0 let not any envious eye dis



262          THE HOLY STATE.
inherit men of that which is their portion in
this life, comfortably to enjoy the blessings
thereof. Yet gravity must prune, though not
root out our mirth.
Gracious deportment may sometimes unjustly
be accused of lightness. Had one seen David
dancing before the ark, Elijah in his praying
posture when he put his head betwixt his legs,
perchance he might have condemned them of
unfitting behavior.  Had he seen Peter and
John posting to Christ's grave, Rhoda running
into the house, he would have thought they
had left their gravity behind them. But let
none blame them for their speed, until he
knows what were their spurs, and what were
the motives that urged them  to make such
haste. These their actions were the true conclusions following from some inward premises
in their own souls; and that may be a syllogism
in grace which appears a solecism in manners.
In some persons gravity is most necessary,
viz: in magistrates and ministers. One Palevizine, an Italian  gentleman, and kinsman
to Scaliger, had in one night all his hair
changed from black to gray. Such an alteration ought there to be in the heads of every
one that enters into holy orders, or public
office, metamorphosed from all lightness to
gravity.
God alone is the giver of true gravity. No




OF MARRIAGE.             263
man wants so much of any grace as he bath
to spare; and a constant impression of God's
omnipresence is an excellent way to fix men's
souls. Bishop Andrews ever placed the picture of Mulcaster, his schoolmaster, over the
door of his study (whereas in all the rest of
his house you should scarce see a picture), as
to be his tutor and supervisor. Let us constantly apprehend God's being in presence, and
this will fright us into staid behavior.
OF MARRIAGE.
SOME men have too much decried marriage.
Give this holy estate her due, and then we
shall find,
Though bachelors be the strongest stakes,
married men are the best binders in the hedge
of the commonwealth.'T is the policy of the
Londoners, when they send a ship into the
Levant or Mediterranean Sea, to make every
mariner therein a merchant, each seaman adventuring somewhat of his own, which will
make him more wary to avoid, and more valiant to undergo dangers. Thus married men,
especially if having posterity, are the deeper
sharers in that state wherein they live, which
engageth their affections to the greater loyalty.




264          THE HOLY STATE.
It is the worst clandestine marriage when
God is not invited to it. Wherefore beforehand beg his gracious assistance.  Marriage
shall prove no lottery to thee, when the hand
of Providence chooseth for thee, who, if drawing a blank, can turn it into a prize, by sanctifying a bad wife unto thee.
Deceive not thyself by over-expecting happiness in the married estate. Look not therein
for contentment greater than God will give, or
a creature in this world can receive, namely, to
be free from all inconveniences. Marriage is
not like the hill Olympus, Xos Xa/orpos, wholly
clear, without clouds. Yea, expect both wind
and storms sometimes, which, when blown over,
the air is the clearer and wholesomer for it.
Make account of certain cares and troubles
which will attend thee.  Remember the nightingales, which sing only some months in the
spring, but commonly are silent when they
have hatched their eggs, as if their mirth were
turned into care for their young ones.  Yet
all the molestations of marriage are abundantly
recompensed with other comforts which God
bestoweth on them  who make a wise choice
of a wife, and observe the following rules:
Let grace and goodness be the principal
loadstone of thy affections.  For love which
bath ends will have an end, whereas that
which is founded in true virtue will always




OF MARRIAGE.             265
continue. Some hold it unhappy to be married
with a diamond ring; perchance, (if there be
so much reason in their folly,) because the diamond hinders the roundness of the ring, ending
the infiniteness thereof, and seems to presage
some termination in their love, which ought
ever to endure, and so it will, when it is
founded in religion.
Neither choose all, nor not at all for beauty.
A cried-up beauty makes more for her own
praise than her husband's profit. They tell us
of a floating island in Scotland: but sure no
wise pilot will cast anchor there, lest the land
swim away with his ship.  So are they served,
and justly enough, who only fasten their love
on fading beauty, and both fail together.
Let there be no great disproportion in age.
They that marry ancient people merely ini expectation to bury them, hang themselves in
hope that one will comne and cut the halter.
Let wealth in its due distance be regarded.
There be two towns in the land of Liege,
called Bovins and Dinant, the inhabitants
whereof bear almost an incredible hatred one
to another, and yet, notwithstanding, their children usually marry together; and the reason
is, because there is none other good town or
wealthy place near them. Thus parents for a
little pelf often marry their children to those
whose persons they hate; and thus union




26-6         THIE HOLY STA TE.
betwixt families is not made, but the breach
rather widened the more.
This shall serve for a conclusion. A bachelor was saying, " Next to no wife, a good wife
is best."  " Nay," said a gentlewoman, " next
to a good wife, no wife is the best."  I wish
to all married people the outward happiness
which, anno 1605, happened to a couple in the
city of Delft in Holland, living most lovingly
together seventy-five years in wedlock, till the
man being one hundred and three, the woman
ninety-nine years of age, died within three
hours each of other, and were buried in the
same grave.
OF FAME.
FAME  is the echo of actions, resounding
them to the world, save that the echo repeats only the last part, but fame relates all,
and often more than all.
Fame sometimes hath created something of
nothing. She hath made whole countries more
than ever nature did, especially near the poles,
and then hath peopled them likewise with inhabitants of her own invention, - pigmies, giants, and amazons. Yea, fame is sometimes
like unto a kind of mushroom, which Pliny




OF FAMVE.              267
recounts to be the greatest miracle in nature,
because growing and having no root, as fame
no ground for her reports.
Fame often makes a great deal of a little.
Absalom killed one of David's sons, and fame
killed all the rest; and, generally, she magnifies and multiplies matters. Loud was that lie
which that bell told, hanging in a clock-house
at Westminster, and usually rung at the coronation and funerals of princes, having this
inscription about it,"King Edward made me
Thirty thousand and three;
Take me down and weigh me,
And more shall you find me."
But when this bell was taken down at the
doomsday of abbeys, this and two more were
found not to weigh twenty thousand. Many
relations of fame are found to shrink accordingly.
Some fames are most difficult to trace home
to their form; and those who have sought to
track them have gone rather in a circle than
forward, and oftentimes, through the doubling
of reports, have returned back again where
they began.
Politicians sometimes raise fames on purpose; as that such things are done already
which they mean to do afterwards. By the
light of those false fires they see into men's




268          THE HOLY STATE.
hearts, and these false rumors are true scouts
to discover men's dispositions.  Besides, the
deed, though strange in itself, is done afterwards with the less noise, men having vented
their wonder beforehand, and the strangeness
of the action is abated, because formerly made
stale in report.  But if the rumor startles men
extremely, and draws with it dangerous consequences, then they can presently confute it, let
their intentions fall, and prosecute it no further.
The Papal side of all fame-merchants drive
the most gainful trade, as that worthy knight,
Sir Edward Sandys, hath given us an exact
survey thereof. But long before them, strange
was that plot of Stratocles, who gave it out
that he had gotten a victory, and the constant
report thereof continued three days, and then
was confuted; and Stratocles being charged
with abusing his people with a lie, "Why,"
said he, "are ye angry with me for making
you pass three days in mirth and jollity more
than otherwise you should?"
Incredible is the swiftness of Fame in carrying reports. First she creeps through a village, then she goes through a town, then she
runs through a city, then she flies through a
country, -still the farther the faster.  Yea,
Christ, who made the dumb speak, made not
tell-tale Fame silent, though charging those he
cured to hold their peace; "but so much the




OF FAME.             269
more went there a fame abroad of him." Yea,
some things have been reported soon as ever
they were done, at impossible distance. The
overthrow of Perseus was brought out of Macedon to Rome in four days. And in Domitian's
time, a report was brought two thousand five
hundred miles in one day. In which accidents,
1. Fame takes post on some other advantage. Thus the overthrow of the Sabines was
known at Rome, prius pene quam nunciari possit, by the means of the arms of the Sabines
drowned in the river of Tiber, and carried
down by the tide to Rome. And thus, anno
1568, the overthrow which the Spaniards gave
the Dutch at the river of Ems, was known at
Grunning before any horseman could reach
thither, by the multitude of the Dutch caps
which the river brought down into the city.
But these conveyances are but slugs to make
such miraculous speed: wherefore sometimes
reports are carried,
2. By the ministration of spirits. The devils
are well at leisure to play such pranks, and may
do it in a frolic. And yet they would scarce be
the carriers except they were well paid for the
portage, getting some profit thereby, (doing of
mischief is all the profit they are capable of,)
and do harm to some by the suddenness of
those reports. Or else,




270          THE HOLY STATE.
3. The fame is antedated and raised before
the fact, being related at guess before it was
acted. Thus some have been causelessly commended for early rising in the morning, who
indeed came to their journey's end overnight.
If such fore-made reports prove true, they are
admired and registered; if false, neglected and
forgotten: as those only which escaped shipwreck hung up votivas tabulas, tablets with
their names, in those haven-towns where they
came ashore; but as for those who are drowned,
their memorials are drowned with them.
General reports are seldom false.  Vox populi vox Dei. A body of that greatness hath an
eye of like clearness, and it is impossible that a
wanderer with a counterfeit pass should pass
undiscovered.
A fond fame is best confuted by neglecting
it. By fond, understand such a report as is
rather ridiculous than dangerous if believed.
It is not worth the making a schism betwixt
news-mongers, to set up an anti-fame against it.
Yea, seriously and studiously to endeavor to
confute it, will grace the rumor too much, and
give suspicion that indeed there is some reality
in it. What madness were it to plant a piece
of ordnance to beat down an aspen leaf, which,
having always the palsy, will at last fall down
of itself. And Fame hath much of the scold
in her; the best way to silence her is to be




OF FAME.               271
silent, and then at last she will be out of breath
with blowing her own trumpet.
Fame sometimes reports things less than
they are. Pardon her for offending herein,
she is guilty so seldom.  For one kingdom  of
Scotland, which, they say, geographers describe
an hundred miles too short, most northern countries are made too large. Fame generally overdoes, underdoes but ill some particulars.  The
Italian proverb hath it, " There is less honesty,
wisdom, and money in men than is counted
on;" yet sometimes a close churl, who locks
his coffers so fast Fame could never peep into
them, dieth richer than he was reported when
alive. None could come near to feel his estate;
it might therefore cut fatter in his purse than
was expected. But Fame falls most short in
those transcendents which are above her predicaments: as in Solomon's wisdom, "And
behold, one half was not told me; thy wisdom and prosperity exceedeth the famne that I
heard: " but chiefly in fore-reporting the happiness in heaven, which "eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the
heart of man to conceive."




272          THE HOLY STATE.
OF MINISTERS' MAINTENANCE.
AINTENANCE of ministers ought to be
plentiful, certain, and in some sort proportionable to their deserts.  It should be
plentiful, because
Their education was very chargeable to fit
them for their profession, both at school and in
the university: their books very dear, and those
which they bought in folio, shrink quickly into
quartos, in respect of the price their executors
can get for them. Say not that scholars draw
needless expenses on themselves by their own
lavishness, and that they should rather lead a
fashion of thrift than follow one of riot; for let
any equal man tax the bill of their necessary
charges, and it amounts to a great sum, yea,
though they be never so good husbands.  Besides, the prices of all commodities daily rise
higher; all persons and professions are raised
in their manner of living. Scholars therefore,
even against their wills, must otherwhiles be
involved in the general expensiveness of the
times; it being impossible that one spoke should
stand still when all the wheel turns about.
Objec. But many needlessly charge themselves in living too long in the university,
sucking so long of their mother, they are never
a whit the wiser for it; whilst others, not stay



OF MINISTERS' MAINTENANCE.    273
ing there so long, nor going through the porch.of human arts, but entering into divinity at the
postern, have made good preachers, providing
their people wholesome meat, though not so
finely drest.
Answ. Much good may it do their very
hearts that feed on it. But how necessary a
competent knowledge of those sciences is for a
perfect divine, is known to every wise man.
Let not men's suffering be counted their fault,
not those accused to stand idle in the market, whom no man hath hired. Many would
leave the university sooner, if called into the
country on tolerable conditions.
Because ministers are to subsist in a free,
liberal, and comfortable way.  Balaam, the
false prophet, rode with his two men; God's
Levite had one man: Oh let not the ministers
of the Gospel be slaves to others, and servants
to themselves! They are not to pry into gain
through every small chink. It becomes them
rather to be acquainted with the natures of
things than with the prices, and to know them
rather as they are in the world than as they
are in the market. Otherwise, if his means be
small, and living poor, necessity will bolt him
out of his own study, and send him to the barn,
when he should be at his book, or make him
study his Easter-book more than all other writers. Hereupon some wanting what they should
18




274          THE HOLY STATE.
have at home, have done what they should not
abroad.
Because hospitality is expected at their hands.
The poor come to their houses as if they had
interest in them, and the ministers can neither
receive them nor refuse them. Not to relieve
them were not Christianity, and to relieve
them were worse than infidelity, because therein they wrong their providing for their own
family. Thus sometimes are they forced to be
Nabals against their will; yet it grieveth them
to send away the people empty.  But what
shall they do, seeing they cannot multiply their
loaves and their fishes?  Besides, clergymen
are deeply rated to all payments.  Oh that
their profession were but as highly prized as
their estate is valued!
Because they are to provide for their posterity, that after the death of their parents they
may live, though not in a high, yet in an honest fashion, neither leaving them to the wide
world, nor to a narrow cottage.
Because the Levites in the Old Testament
had plentiful provision. Oh't is good to be
God's pensioner, for he giveth his large allowance. They had cities and suburbs, (houses
and glebe-land) tithes, freewill-offerings, and
their parts in first-fruits, and sacrifices.  Do
the ministers of the Gospel deserve worse
wages for bringing better tidings? Besides,




OF MINISTERS' MAINTENANCE.    275
the Levites' places were hereditary, and the
son sure of his father's house and land without
a faculty ad succedendumn patri.
Because the Papists in time of Popery gave
their priests plentiful means. Whose benefactors, so bountiful to them, may serve to condemn the covetousness of our age towards
God's ministers, in such who have more knowledge and should have more religion.
Objec. But the great means of the clergy in
time of Popery was rather wrested than given.
The priests melted men's hearts into charity
with the scarefire of purgatory; and for justice
now to give back what holy fraud had gotten
away, is not sacrilege but restitution.  And
when those grand and vast donations were
given to the Church, there was (as some say)
a voice of angels heard from heaven, saying,
Hodie venenum in ecclesiam Christi cecidit.
Answ. If poison then fell into the Church,
since hath there a strong antidote been given
to expel it, especially in impropriations. Distinguish we betwixt such donations given to
uses in themselves merely unlawful and superstitious, as praying for the dead, and the like;
and those which in genere were given to God's
service, though in specie some superstitious end
were annexed thereto. And grant the former
of these to be void in their very granting, yet
the latter ought to be rectified and reduced to




276          TUE'H OLY STATE.
the true use, and in no case to be alienated
from God. Plato saith that in his time it was
a proverb amongst children, Tw'v gpOps 8oO'vrTv
OrK ~rTv Oa-EatLp(EOL Things that are truly given,
must not be taken away again. Sure, as our
Saviour set a child in the midst of his disciples
to teach them humility, so nowadays a child
need be set in the midst of some men to teach
them justice. Excellently Luther, " Nisi superesset spolium 2Egypti, quod rapuimus Papoe,
omnibus ministris verbi fame pereundum esset;
quod si sustentandi essent de contributione populi, misere profecto ac duriter viverent. Alimur
ergo de spoliis 2Egypti collectis sub Papatu, et
hoc ipsum tamen quod reliquum est diripitur a
magistratu: spoliantur parochiae et scholhe, non
aliter ac si fame necare nos velint."
Objec. But in the pure primitive times the
means were least, and ministers the best; and
nowadays, does not wealth make them lazy, and
poverty keep them painful? Like hawks, they
fly best when sharp. The best way to keep
the stream of the clergy sweet and clear, is to
fence out the tide of wealth from coming unto
them.
Ansuw. Is this our thankfulness to the God
of heaven, for turning persecution into peace,
in pinching his poor ministers? When the
commonwealth now makes a feast, shall neither
Zadok the Priest, nor Nathan the Prophet, be




OF AINISTERS' MAINTEAINCE.   277
invited to it? that so the footsteps of primitive
persecution may still remain in these peaceable
times, amongst the Papists, in their needless
burning of candles; and amongst the Protestants, in the poor means of their ministers.
And what if some turn the spurs unto virtue
into the stirrups of pride, grow idle and insolent?  Let them  soundly suffer for it themselves on God's blessing; but let not the bees
be starved that the drones may be punished.
Ministers' maintenance ought to be certain;
lest some of them meet with Labans for their
patrons and parishioners; changing their wages
ten times; and at last, if the fear of God doth
not fright them, send them away empty.
It is unequal that there should be an equality
betwixt all ministers' maintenance; except that
first there were made an equality betwixt all
their parts, pains, and piety. Parity in means
will quickly bring a level and flat in learning;
and few will strive to be such spiritual musicians, to whom David directeth many psalms,
" to him that excelleth," but will even content
themselves with a canonical sufficiency, and
desiring no more than what the law requires:
more learning would be of more pains, and the
same profit, seeing the mediocriter goeth abreast
with optime.
Objec. But neither the best, nor the most
painful and learned, get the best preferment.




278          THE HOLY STATE.
Sometimes men of the least, get livings of the
best worth; yea, such as are not worthy to be
the curates to their curates, and crassa ingenia
go away with opima sacerdotia.
Answ. Thus it ever was, and will be. But
is this dust only to be found in churches, and
not in civil courts? Is merit everywhere else
made the exact square of preferment? Or did
ever any urge that all offices should be made
champaign for their profits, none higher than
other? Such corruptions will ever be in the
Church, except there were a law (ridiculous
to be made, and impossible to be kept) that
men should be no men, but that all patrons or
people, in their election or presentations of ministers, should wholly divest themselves of byrespects of kindred, friendship, profit, affection,
and merely choose for desert; and then should
we have all things so well ordered, such pastors and such people, the Church in a manner
would be triumphant, whilst militant.  Till
then, though the best livings light not always
on the ablest men, yet as long as there be such
preferments in the Church, there are still encouragements for men to endeavor to excel, all
hoping, and some happening on advancement.
Objec. But ministers ought to serve God
merely for love of himself; and pity but his
eyes were out that squints at his own ends in
doing God's work.




OF MINISTERS' MAINTENANCE.    279
Answ. Then should God's best saints be
blind; for Moses himself had an eye to the
recompense of reward.  Yea, ministers may
look not only on their eternal but on their temporal reward, as motives to quicken their endeavors.  And though it be true that grave
and pious men do study for learning's sake,
and embrace virtue for itself, yet it is as true
that youth (which is the season when learning is gotten) is not without ambition, nor
will ever take pains to excel in anything,
when there is not some hope of excelling others in reward and dignity. And what reason
is it, that, whilst law and physic bring great
portions to such as marry them, divinity, their
eldest sister, should only be put off with her
own beauty? In after-ages men will rather
bind their sons to one gainful than to seven
liberal sciences: only the lowest of the people
would be made ministers, which cannot otherwise subsist; and it will be bad when God's
Church is made a sanctuary only for men of
desperate estates to take refuge in it.
However, let every minister take up this
resolution, " to preach the Word, to be instant
in season, out of season, reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine." If
thou hast competent means comfortably to subsist on, be the more thankful to God the fountain, to man the channel; painful in thy place,




280          THE HOLY STATE.
pitiful to the poor, cheerful in spending some,
careful in keeping the rest. If not, yet tire not
for want of a spur: do something for love, and
not all for money; for love of God, of goodness, of the godly, of a good conscience. Know't is better to want means than to detain them;
the one only suffers, the other deeply sins; and
it is as dangerous a persecution to religion to
draw the fuel from it as to cast water on it.
Comfort thyself that another world will pay
this world's debts, "and great is thy reward
with God in heaven; " a reward, in respect of
his promise; a gift, in respect of thy worthlessness: and yet the less thou lookest at it, the
surer thou shalt find it, if laboring with thyself
to serve God for himself, in respect of whom
even heaven itself is but a sinister end.




THE PROFANE STATE








THE PROFANE STATE.
THE WITCH.
EFORE  we come to describe her, we
must premise and prove certain propositions, whose truth may otherwise be doubted
of.
1. Formerly there were witches.  Otherwise God's law had fought against a shadow,
1" Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live." Yea,
we read how King Saul, who had formerly
scoured witches out of all Israel, afterwards
drank a draught of that puddle himself.
2. There are witches for the present, though
those night-birds fly not so frequently in flocks,
since the light of the Gospel. Some ancient
arts and mysteries are said to be lost; but sure
the devil will not wholly let down any of his
gainful trades. There be many witches at
this day in Lapland, who sell winds to mariners for money, (and must they not needs go
whom the devil drives?) though we are not




284        THE PROFANE STA TE.
bound to believe the old story of Ericus, King
of Swedeland, who had a cap, and as he turned
it, the wind he wished for would blow on that
side.
3. It is very hard to prove a witch. Infernal contracts are made without witnesses. She
that in presence of others will compact with the
devil, deserves to be hanged for her folly as
well as impiety.
4. Many are unjustly accused for witches:
sometimes out of ignorance of natural, and misapplying of supernatural causes; sometimes out
of their neighbors' mere malice, and the suspicion is increased if the party accused be notoriously ill-favored; whereas deformity alone is
no more argument to make her a witch than
handsomeness had been evidence to prove her
a harlot; sometimes out of their own causeless
confession: being brought before a magistrate,
they acknowledge themselves to be witches,
being themselves rather bewitched with fear
or deluded with fancy. But the self-accusing
of some is as little to be credited as the selfpraising of others, if alone without other evidence.
5. Witches are commonly of the feminine
sex. Ever since Satan tempted our grandmother Eve, he knows that that sex is most
lickerish to taste, and most careless to swallow
his baits. Nescio quid habet muliebre nomen




THE WITCH.             285
semper cum  sacris: If they light well, they
are inferior to few men in piety; if ill, superior
to all in superstition.
6. They are commonly distinguished into
white and black witches. White, I dare not
say good, witches (for woe be to him that calleth evil good) heal those that are hurt, and
help them to lost goods. But better it is to
lap one's pottage like a dog than to eat it mannerly with a spoon of the devil's giving. Black
witches hurt, and do mischief. But in deeds
of darkness there is no difference of colors:
the white and the black are both guilty alike
in compounding with the devil. And nowr we
come to see by what degrees people arrive at
this height of profaneness.
At the first, she is only ignorant and very
malicious. She hath usually a bad face and a
worse tongue, given to railing and cursing, as
if constantly bred on Mount Ebal; yet speaking perchance worse than she means, though
meaning worse than she should. And as the
harmless wapping of a cursed cur may stir up
a fierce mastiff to the worrying of sheep, so,
on her cursing, the devil may take occasion by
God's permission to do mischief, without her
knowledge, and perchance against her will.
Some have been made witches by endeavoring to defend themselves against witchcraft; for
fearing some suspected witch should hurt them,




286        THE PROFANE STATE.
they fence themselves with the devil's shield
against the devil's sword, put on his whole
armor, beginning to use spells and charms
to safeguard themselves.  The art is quickly
learnt, to which nothing but credulity and
practice is required; and they often fall from
defending themselves to offending of others,
especially the devil not being dainty of his
company where he finds welcome; and being
invited once, he haunts ever after.
She begins at first with doing tricks rather
strange than hurtful; yea, some of them are
pretty and pleasing.  But it is dangerous to
gather flowers that grow on the banks of the
pit of hell, for fear of falling in; yea, they
which play with the devil's rattles will be
brought by degrees to wield his sword, and
from making of sport they come to doing of
mischief.
At last she indents downright with the devil.
He is to find her some toys for a time, and to
have her soul in exchange. At the first (to
give the devil his due) he observes the agreement, to keep up his credit, else none would
trade with him; though at last he either deceives her with an equivocation, or at some
other small hole this serpent winds out himself,
and breaks the covenants. And where shall
she, poor wretch, sue the forfeited bond? In
heaven she neither can nor dare appear; on




THE WITCH.            287
earth she is hanged if the contract be proved;
in hell her adversary is judge, and it is woful
to appeal from the devil to the devil. But
for a while let us behold her in her supposed
felicity.
She taketh her free progress from one place
to another. Sometimes the devil doth locally
transport her; but he will not be her constant
hackney to carry such luggage about; but
oftentimes, to save portage, deludes her brains
in her sleep, so that they brag of long journeys whose heads never travelled from their
bolsters. These, with Drake, sail about the
world, but it is on an ocean of their own
fancies, and in a ship of the same.  They
boast of brave banquets they have been at,
but they would be very lean should they eat
no other meat. Others will persuade, if any
list to believe, that by a witch-bridle they can
make a fair of horses of an acre of besomweed. Oh silly souls! Oh subtle Satan that
deceived them!
With strange figures and words she summnons the devils to attend her; using a language which God never made at the confusion
of tongues, and an interpreter must be fetched
from hell to expound it. With these, or Scripture abused, the devil is ready at her service.
Who would suppose that a roaring lion could
so finely act the spaniel? One would think he




288        THE PR OFANE S TA TE.
were too old to suck, and yet he will do that
also for advantage.
Sometimes she enjoins him to do more for
her than he is able; as to wound those whom
God's providence doth arm, or to break through
the tents of blessed angels, to hurt one of God's
saints. Here Satan is put to his shifts, and his
wit must help him where his power fails; he
either excuseth it, or seemingly performs it,
lengthening his own arm by the dimness of her
eye, and presenting the seeming bark of that
tree which he cannot bring.
She lives commonly but very poor. Methinks she should bewitch to herself a golden
mine, at least good meat and whole clothes.
But't is as rare to see one of her profession,
as a hangman, in a whole suit. Is the possession of the devil's favor here no better?
Lord, what is the reversion of it hereafter!
When arraigned for her life, the devil leaves
her to the law to shift for herself. He hath
worn out all his shoes in her former service,
and will not now go barefoot to help her; and
the circle of the halter is found to be too strong
for all her spirits. Yea, Zoroastes himself, the
first inventor of magic, though he laughed at
his birth, led a miserable life, and died a woful
death in banishment.




THE ATHEIST.           289
THE ATHEIST.
THE word atheist is of a very large extent.
Every polytheist is in effect an atheist; for
he that multiplies a deity, annihilates it; and
he that divides it, destroys it.
But amongst the heathen we may observe
that whosoever sought to withdraw people
from their idolatry, was presently indicted and
arraigned of atheism. If any philosopher saw
God through their gods, this dust was cast in
his eyes, for being more quick-sighted than
others, that presently he was condemned for
an atheist; and thus Socrates, the Pagan martyr, was put to death dn OEcos. At this day
three sorts of atheists are extant in the world:
I. In life and conversation. Psal. x. 4:
"God is not in all his thoughts;" not that
he thinks there is no God, but thinks not
there is a God, never minding or heeding
him in the whole course of his life and actions.
2. In will and desire. Such could wish
there were no God, or devil; as thieves would
have no judge nor jailer; quod metuunt, periisse expetunt.
3. In judgment and opinion.  Of the former two sorts of atheists, there are more in
the world than are generally thought; of this
19




290        THE PR OFANE STA TE.
latter, more are thought to be than there are,
a contemplative atheist being very rare, such
as were Diagoras, Protagoras, Lucian, and
Theodorus, who, though carrying God in his
name, was an atheist in his opinion. Come we
to see by what degrees a man may climb up to
this height of profaneness. And we will suppose him to be one living in wealth and prosperity, which more disposeth men to atheism
than adversity; for affliction mindeth men of
a deity, as those which are pinched will cry,
O Lord! but much outward happiness abused,
occasioneth men, as wise Agur observeth, " to
deny God, and say, Who is the Lord? "
First, he quarrels at the diversities of religions
in the world, complaining how great clerks dissent in their judgments, which makes him sceptical in all opinions; whereas such differences
should not make men careless to have any, but
careful to have the best religion.
He loveth to maintain paradoxes and to shut
his eyes against the beams of a known truth;
not only for discourse, which might be permitted, (for, as no cloth can be woven except the
woof and the warp be cast cross one to another, so discourse will not be maintained
without some opposition for the tiine,) but
our inclining atheist goes further, engaging his
affections in disputes, even in such matters
where the supposing them wounds piety, but




THE A THIES T.          291
the positive maintaining them stabs it to the
heart.
He scoffs and makes sport at sacred things.
This, by degrees, abates the reverence of religion, and ulcers men's hearts with profaneness.
The Popish proverb, well understood, hath a
truth in it, "Never dog barked against the
crucifix, but he ran mad."
Hence he proceeds to take exception at
God's Word. He keeps a register of many
difficult places of Scripture, not that he desires satisfaction therein, but delights to puzzle
divines therewith, and counts it a great conquest when he hath posed them. Unnecessary
questions out of the Bible are his most necessary study; and he is more curious to know
where Lazarus his soul was the four days he
lay in the grave, than careful to provide for his
own soul when he shall be dead. Thus is it
just with God, that they who will not feed on
the plain meat of his Word, should be choked
with the bones thereof. But his principal delight is to sound the alarum, and to set several
places of Scripture to fight one against another,
betwixt which there is a seeming, and he would
make a real, contradiction.
Afterwards he grows so impudent as to deny
the Scripture itself. As Samson being fastened
by a web to a pin, carried away both web and
pin, so, if any urge our atheist with arguments




292        TLHE PROFANE STATE.
from Scripture, and tie him to the authority of
God's Word, he denies both reason and God's
Word, to which the reason is fastened.
Hence he proceeds to deny God himself.
First, in his administration; then in his essence. What else could be expected but that
he should bite at last who had snarled so long?
First, he denies God's ordering of sublunary
matters.'" Tush, doth the Lord see, or is there
knowledge in the Most High? " making him a
maimed deity, without an eye of providence,
or an arm of power, and at most restraining
him only to matters above the clouds.  But
he that dares to confine the King of heaven,
will soon after endeavor to depose him, and fall
at last flatly to deny him.
He furnisheth himself with an armory of
arguments to fight against his own conscience:
some taken from
1. The impunity and outward happiness of
wicked men: as the heathen poet, whose verses
for me shall pass un-Englished.
" Esse Deos credamne? fidem jurata fefellit,
Et facies illi, qume fuit ante, manet."
And no wonder if an atheist breaks his neck
thereat, whereat the foot of David himself
(Psal. lxxiii. 2, 3) did almost slip when he saw
the prosperity of the wicked; whom God only
reprieves for punishment hereafter.
2. From the afflictions of the godly, whilst




THE ATHEIST.            293
indeed God only tries their faith and patience.
As Absalom complained of his father David's
government, that none were deputed to redress
people's grievances, so he objects that none
righteth the wrongs of God's people, and thinks
(proud dust!) the world would be better steered if he were the pilot thereof.
3. From the delaying of the day of judgment, with those mockers, (2 Peter iii. 3,) whose
objections the apostle fully answereth. And in
regard of his own particular, the atheist hath as
little cause to rejoice at the deferring of the day
of judgment as the thief hath reason to be glad
that the assizes be put off, who is to be tried,
and may be executed before, at the quartersessions: so death may take our atheist off
before the day of judgment come.
With these and other arguments he struggles with his own conscience, and long in vain
seeks to conquer it, even fearing that Deity he
flouts at, and dreading that God whom he denies. And as that famous Athenian soldier,
Cynaegirus, catching hold of one of the enemy's ships, held it first with his right hand, and
when that was cut off, with his left, and when
both were cut off, yet still kept it with his
teeth, so the conscience of our atheist, though
he bruise it and beat it and maim it never so
much, still keeps him by the teeth, still feeding
and gnawing upon him, torturing and torment



294        THE PROFANE STATE.
ing him with thoughts of a deity which the
other desires to suppress.
At last he himself is utterly overthrown by
conquering his own conscience. God, in justice, takes from him the light which he thrust
from himself, and delivers him up to a seared
conscience and a reprobate mind, whereby hell
takes possession of him.  The apostle saith,
(Acts xvii. 27,) that a man may feel God in his
works; but now our atheist hath a dead palsy,
is past all sense, and cannot perceive God who
is everywhere presented unto him. It is most
strange, yet most true, which is reported, that
the arms of the Duke of Rohan, in France,
which are fusils or lozenges, are to be seen in
the wood or stones throughout all his country;
so that break a stone in the middle, or lop a
bough of a tree, and one shall behold the grain
thereof, by some secret cause in nature, diamonded or streaked in the fashion of a lozenge.
Yea, the very same in effect is observed in
England; for the resemblances of stars, the
arms of the worshipful family of the Shugburies in Warwickshire, are found in the stones
within their own manor of Shugbury. But
what shall we say? The arms of the God
of heaven, namely power, wisdom, and goodness, are to be seen in every creature in the
world, even from worms to men; and yet our
atheist will not acknowledge them, but ascribes




TEE A TIHEIS T,          295
them either to chance, (but could a blind painter limn such curious pictures?) or else to
nature, which is a mere sleight of the devil to
conceal God from men, by calling him after
another name; for what is natura naturans
but God himself?
His death commonly is most miserable:
either burnt, as Diagoras; or eaten up with
lice, as Pherecydes; or devoured by dogs, as
Lucian; or thunder-shot and turned to ashes,
as Olympius. However, descending impenitent into hell, there he is atheist no longer, but
hath as much religion as the devil, " to confess
God and tremble":
"Nullus in inferno est atheos, ante fuit."
"On earth were atheists many,
In hell there is not any."
All speak truth when they are on the rack;
but it is a woful thing to be hell's convert.
And there we leave the atheist, having dwelt
the longer on his character because that speech
of worthy Mr. Greenham deserves to be heeded,
" that atheism in England is more to be feared
than Popery."




296       TEE PROFANE STA TE.
THE HYPOCRITE.
Y hypocrite we understand such a one as
doth (Isaiah xxxii. 6) "practise hypocrisy,"
make a trade or work of dissembling; for, otherwise, hypocriseorum macula carere, aut paucorum est, aut nullorum: The best of God's children have a smack of hypocrisy.
A hypocrite is himself both the archer and
the mark, in all actions shooting at his own
praise or profit. And therefore he doth all
things that they may be seen; —what with
others is held a principal point in law is his
main maxim in divinity, - to have good witness. Even fasting itself is meat and drink to
him whilst others behold it.
In the outside of religion he outshines a
sincere Christian. Gilt cups glitter more than
those of massy gold, which are seldom burnished. Yea, well may the hypocrite afford
gaudy facing who cares not for any lining;
brave it in the shop that hath nothing in the
warehouse. Nor is it a wonder if in outward
service he outstrips God's servants, who outdoeth God's command by will-worship, giving
God more than he requires, though not what
most he requires, I mean his heart.
His vizard is commonly plucked off in this
world. Sincerity is an entire thing in itself;




THE H YP O CRITE.         297
hypocrisy consists of several pieces cunningly
closed together; and sometimes the hypocrite
is smote (as Ahab with an arrow, 1 Kings xxii.
34) betwixt the joints of his armor, and so is
mortally wounded in his reputation. Now by
these shrewd signs a dissembler is often discovered: first, heavy censuring of others for
light faults; secondly, boasting of his own goodness; thirdly, the unequal beating of his pulse
in matters of piety, - hard, strong, and quick in
public actions, - weak, soft, and dull in private
matters; fourthly, shrinking in persecution,
for painted faces cannot abide to come nigh
the fire.
Yet sometimes he goes to the grave neither
detected nor suspected: if masters in their art,
and living in peaceable times, wherein piety
and prosperity do not fall out, but agree well
together. Maud, mother to King Henry the
Second, being besieged in Winchester castle,
counterfeited herself to be dead, and so was
carried out in a coffin, whereby she escaped.
Another time, being besieged at Oxford in a
cold winter, with wearing white apparel she
got away in the snow undiscovered. Thus
some hypocrites, by dissembling mortification,
that they are dead to the world, and by professing a snow-like purity in their conversations, escape all their lifetime undiscerned by
mortal eyes.




298        THE PROFANE STATE.
By long dissembling piety, he deceives himself at last; yea, he may grow so infatuated
as to conceive himself no dissembler, but a sillcere saint. A scholar was so possessed with his
lively personating of King Richard the Third
in a college-comedy, that ever after he was
transported with a royal humor in his large expenses, which brought him to beggary, though
he had great preferment. Thus the hypocrite,
by long acting the part of piety, at last believes
himself really to be such a one whom at first
he did but counterfeit.
God here knows, and hereafter will make
hypocrites known to the whole world. Ottocar, King of Bohemia, refused to do homage to
Rodolphus the First, Emperor, till at last, chastised with war, he was content to do him homage privately in a tent; which tent was so
contrived by the Emperor's servants, that, by
drawing one cord, it was all taken away, and
so Ottocar presented on his knees doing his
homage to the view of three armies in presence. Thus God at last shall uncase the closest dissembler to the sight of men, angels, and
devils, having removed all veils and pretences
of piety; no goat in a sheepskin shall steal on
his right hand at the last day of judgment.




THE HERETIC.            299
THE HERETIC.
T is very difficult accurately to define him.
Amongst the heathen, atheist was, and
amongst Christians, heretic is, the disgraceful
word of course always cast upon those who dissent from the predominant current of the time.
Thus those who, in matters of opinion, varied
from the Pope's copy the least hair-stroke, are
condemned for heretics. Yea, Virgilius, Bishop
of Saltzburg, was branded with that censure,
for maintaining that there were antipodes opposite to the then known world. It may be, as
Alexander, hearing the philosophers dispute of
more worlds, wept that he had conquered no
part of them; so it grieved the Pope that these
antipodes were not subject to his jurisdiction,
which much incensed his Holiness against that
strange opinion. We will branch the description of a heretic into these three parts.
i. He is one that formerly hath been of the
true Church: "They went out from us, but
they were not of us." These afterwards prove
more offensive to the Church than very Pagans; as the English-Irish, descended anciently
of English parentage, (be it spoken with the
more shame to them, and sorrow to us,) turning wild, become worse enemies to our nation
than the native Irish themselves.




300        THE PROFANE S TATE.
2. Maintaining a fiundamental error. Every
scratch in the hand is not a stab to the heart;
nor doth every false opinion make a heretic.
3. With obstinacy; which is the dead flesh,
making the green wound of an error fester into
the old sore of a heresy.
It matters not much what manner of person
he hath: if beautiful, perchance the more attractive of feminine followers; if deformed, so
that his body is as odd as his opinions, he is
the more properly entitled to the reputation of
crooked saint.
His natural parts are quick and able. Yet
he that shall ride on a winged horse to tell
him thereof, shall but come too late to bring
him stale news of what he knew too well
before.
Learning is necessary in himself, if he trades
in a critical error; but if he only broaches dregs,
and deals in some dull, sottish opinion, a trowel
will serve as well as a pencil to daub on such
thick, coarse colors.  Yea, in some heresies,
deep studying is so useless, that the first thing
they learn is to inveigh against all learning.
However, some smattering in the original
tongues will do well. On occasion he will let
fly whole volleys of Greek and Hebrew words,
whereby he not only amazeth his ignorant auditors, but also in conferences daunteth many of
his opposers, who (though in all other learning




THE HERETIC.            301
far his superiors) may perchance be conscious
of want of skill in those languages, whilst the
heretic hereby gains credit to his cause and
person.
His behavior is seemingly very pious and
devout.  How  foul soever the postern and
backdoor be, the gate opening to the street is
swept and garnished, and his outside adorned
with pretended austerity.
He is extremely proud and discontented with
the times, quarrelling that many beneath him
in piety are above him in place. This pride
hath caused many men, which otherwise might
have been shining lights, prove smoking firebrands in the Church.
Having first hammered the heresy in himself, he then falls to seducing of others: so hard
it is for one to have the itch and not to scratch.
Yea, Babylon herself will allege that for Zion's
sake she will not hold her peace. The necessity of propagating the truth is error's plea
to divulge her falsehoods. Men, as naturally
they desire to know, so they desire what they
know should be known.
If challenged to a private dispute, his impudence bears him out. He counts it the only
error to confess he hath erred. His face is of
brass, which may be said either ever or never
to blush. In disputing, his modus is sine modo;
and, as if all figures (even in logic) were mag



302         THE PR OFANE S TA TE.
ical, he neglects all forms of reasoning, counting that the only syllogism which is his conclusion.
THE LIAR
I S one that makes a trade to tell falsehoods
with intent to deceive. He is either open
or secret. A secret liar or equivocator is such
a one as by mental reservations and other
tricks deceives him to whom he speaks, being
lawfully called to deliver all the truth; and
sure speech being but a copy of the heart, it
cannot be avouched for a true copy that hath
less in it than the original. Hence it often
comes to pass,
" When Jesuits unto us answer, Nay,
They do not English speak,'t is Greek they say."
Such an equivocator we leave, more needing
a book than character to describe him. The
open liar is first, either mischievous, condemned
by all; secondly, officious, unlawful also, because doing ill for good to come of it; thirdly,
jesting, when in sport and merriment.  And
though some count a jesting lie to be like the
dirt of oysters, which (they say) never stains,
yet is it a sin in earnest. What policy is it
for one to wound himself to tickle others, and




THE LIAR.              303
to stab his own soul to make the standers-by
sport? We come to describe the liar.
At first he tells a lie with some shame and
reluctancy. For then if he cuts off but a lap
of truth's garment, his heart smites him; but
in process of time he conquers his conscience,
and from quenching it there ariseth a smoke
which soots and fouls his soul, so that afterwards he lies without any regret.
Having made one lie, he is fain to make
more to maintain it. For an untruth, wanting
a firm foundation, needs many buttresses. The
honor and happiness of the Israelites is the
misery and mischief of lies, " Not one amongst
them shall be barren," but miraculously procreative to beget others.
He hath a good memory which he badly
abuseth. Memory in a liar is no more than
needs.  For, first, lies are hard to be remembered, because many, whereas truth is but one;
secondly, because a lie, cursorily told, takes little
footing and settled fastness in the teller's memory, but prints itself deeper in the hearers',
who take the greater notice because of the
improbability and deformity thereof; and one
will remember the sight of a monster longer
than the sight of a handsome body. Hence
comes it to pass, that, when the liar hath forgotten himself, his auditors put him in mind
of the lie, and take him therein.




304        THE PROFANE S TA TE.
Sometimes, though his memory cannot help
him from being arrested for lying, his wit
rescues him; which needs a long reach to
bring all ends presently and probably together,
gluing the splinters of his tales so cunningly
that the cracks cannot be perceived. Thus a
relic-monger bragged he could show a feather
of the dove at Christ's baptism; but being to
show it to the people, a wag had stolen away
the feather and put a coal in the room of it.
"Well," quoth he to the spectators, " I cannot
be so good as my word for the present, but
here is one of the coals that broiled St. Lawrence, and that's worth the seeing."
Being challenged for telling a lie, no man
is more furiously angry. Then he draws his
sword and threatens, because he thinks that an
offer of revenge, to show himself moved at the
accusation, doth in some sort discharge him of
the imputation; as if the condemning of the
sin in appearance acquitted him in effect; or
else because he that is called a liar to his face
is also called a coward in the same breath, if
he swallows it; and the party charged doth
conceive that if he vindicates his valor, his
truth will be given him into the bargain.
At last, he believes his own lies to be true.
He hath told them over and over so often, that
prescription makes a right; and he verily believes that at the first he gathered the story out




THE COMM ON BARRA TOR.      305
of some authentical author, which only grew in
his own brain.
No man else believes him when he speaks
the truth. How much gold soever he hath in
his chest, his word is but brass and passeth for
nothing; yea, he is dumb in effect, for it is all
one whether one cannot speak or cannot be
believed.
To conclude: some of the West Indians, to
expiate their sin of lying, used to let themselves blood in their tongues, and to offer the
blood to their idols: a good cure for the squinancy, but no satisfaction for lying. God's Word
hath taught us better: " What profit is there in
my blood? " The true repentance of the party
washed in the blood of Christ can only obtain
pardon for this sin.
THE COMMON BARRATOR.
A   BARRATOR is a horse-leech, that only
sucks the corrupted blood of the law. He
trades only in tricks and quirks; his highway
is in by-paths, and he loveth a cavil better
than an argument, an evasion than an answer.
There be two kinds of them: either such -as
fight themselves, or are trumpeters in a battle
to set on others. The former is a professed
20




306        THE PR OFANE $TA TE.
dueller in the law that will challenge any, and
in all suit-combats be either principal or second.
References and compositions he hates as bad
as a hangman hates a pardon. Had he been a
scholar, he would have maintained all paradoxes; if a chirurgeon, he would never have
cured a wound, but always kept it raw; if a
soldier, he would have been excellent at a siege,
nothing but ejectio firma would out him.
He is half starved in the lent of a long vacation for want of employment, — save only that
then he brews work to broach in term-time. I
find one so much delighted in law-sport, that
when Lewis, the King of France, offered to
ease him of a number of suits, he earnestly
besought his Highness to leave him some
twenty or thirty behind, wherewith he might
merrily pass away the time.
He hath this property of an honest man that
his word is as good as his bond; for he will
pick the lock of the strongest conveyance, or
creep out at the lattice of a word. Wherefore,
he counts to enter common with others as good
as his own several; for he will so vex his partners that they had rather forego their right
than undergo a suit with him. As for the
trumpeter barrator,'He falls in with all his neighbors that fall
out, and spurs them on to go to law. A gentleman, who in a duel was rather scratched




THE COMMON BARRATOR.         307
than wounded, sent for a chirurgeon, who, having opened the wound, charged his man with
all speed to fetch such a salve from such a
place in his study. "Why," said the gentleman, "is the hurt so dangerous? " "Oh yes,"
answered the chirurgeon, "if he returns not in
post-haste, the wound will cure itself, and so I
shall lose my fee." Thus the barrator posts to
the houses of his neighbors, lest the sparks of
their small discords should go out before he
brings them fuel, and so he be broken by their
making up. Surely, he loves not to have the
bells rung in a peal, but he likes it rather
when they are jangled backward, himself having kindled the fire of dissension amongst his
neighbors.
He lives till his clothes have as many rents
as himself hath made dissensions.  I wonder
any should be of this trade when none ever
thrived on't; paying dear rates for their counsels for bringing many cracked titles, they are
fain to fill up their gaping chinks with the
more gold.
But I have done with this wrangling companion, half afraid to meddle with him any
longer, lest he should commence a suit against
me for describing him.
The reader may easily perceive how this
book of the Profane State would swell to a
great proportion, should we therein character




308        THE PROFANE STATE.
all the kinds of vicious persons which stand in
opposition to those which are good. But this
pains may well be spared, seeing that rectum est
index sui et obliqui; and the lustre of the good
formerly described will sufficiently discover the
enormity of those which are otherwise.
-4 —
THE DEGENEROUS GENTLEMAN.
SOME will challenge this title of incongruity,
as if those two words were so dissonant
that a whole sentence cannot hold them; for,
sure, where the gentleman is the root, degenerous cannot be the fruit. But if any quarrel
with my words, Valerius Maximus shall be my
clhampion, who styleth such nobilia portenta.
By gentleman we understand one whom  the
heralds (except they will deny their best records) must allow of ancient parentage. Such
a one, when a child, being kept the devil's
Nazarite, that no razor of correction must come
upon his head in his father's family, see what
he proves in the process of time, brought to
extreme poverty. Herein we intend no invective glance on those pious gentlemen whose
states are consumed through God's secret judgment, and none of the owners' visible default;




TIHE DEGENER 0 US GENTLEMAN.   309
only we meddle with such as by carelessness
and riot cause their own ruin.
He goes to school to learn in jest, and play
in earnest. Now this gentleman, now that
gentlewoman, begs him a play-day; and now
the book must be thrown away that he may
see the buck hunted. He comes to school
late, departs soon, and the whole year with
him, like the fortnight when Christmas-day
falls on a Tuesday, is all holidays and halfholidays. And as the poets feign of Thetis,
that she drenched Achilles her son in the
Stygian waters that he might not be wounded with any weapon, so cockering mothers
enchant their sons to make them  rod-free,
which they do by making some golden circles
in the hand of the schoolmaster. Thus these
two conjoining together, make the indentures
to bind the youth to eternal ignorance. Yet
perchance he may get some alms of learning;
here a snap, there a piece of knowledge, but
nothing to purpose.
His father's serving-men (which he counts
no mean preferment) admit him  into their
society. Going to a drinking-match, they
carry him with them to enter him, and applaud his hopefulness, finding him vicious beyond his age. The butler makes him free
(having first paid his fees accustomed) of his
own father's cellar, and guesseth the profound



310        THE PROFANE STATE.
ness of his young master's capacity by the
depth of the whole-ones he fetcheth off.
Coming to the university, his chief study is to
study nothing. What is learning but a cloakbag of books, cumbersome for a gentleman to
carry? and the Muses fit to make wives for
farmers' sons. Perchance his own tutor, for
the promise of the next living, (which, notwithstanding his promise, he afterwards sells to
another,) contributes to his undoing, letting him
live as he list. Yea, perhaps his own mother,
whilst his father diets him for his health with
a moderate allowance, makes him  surfeit underhand by sending him money. Thus whilst
some complain that the university infected him,
le infected the university, from which he sucked no milk, but poisoned her nipples.
At the inns of court, under pretence to learn
law, he learns to be lawless; not knowing by
his study so much as what an execution means,
till he learns it by his own dear experience.
Here he grows acquainted with the roaring
boys, I am afraid so called by a woful prolepsis,
here, for hereafter. What formerly was counted
the chief credit of an orator, these esteem the
honor of a swearer; pronunciation, to mouth an
oath with a graceless grace. These, as David
saith,' clothe themselves with curses as with
a garment," and therefore desire to be in the
latest fashion both in their clothes and curses.




THE DEGENEROUS GENTLEMAN.   311
These infuse all their skill into their young
novice, who shortly proves such a proficient
that he exceeds his masters in all kinds of
vicious courses.
Through the mediation of a scrivener, he
grows acquainted with some great usurer. Nor
is this youngster so ravenous as the other is
ready to feed him with money, sometimes with
a courteous violence forcing on him more than
he desires, provided the security be good; except the usurer be so valiant as to hazard the
losing of a small hook to catch a great fish, and
will adventure to trust him, if his estate in
hope be over measure, though he himself be
under age.  Now  the greater part of the
money he takes up is not for his own spending, but to pay the shot of other men's riot.
After his father's death, he flies out more
than ever before. Formerly he took care for
means for his spending, now he takes care for
spending for his means. His wealth is so deep
a gulf; no riot can ever sound the bottom of it.
To make his guests drunk is the only seal of
their welcome. His very meanest servant may
be master of the cellar, and those who deserve
no beer may command the best wine: such
dancing by day, such masking by night; such
roaring, such revelling, able to awake the sleeping ashes of his great-great-grandfather, and to
fright all blessing from his house.




312        THE PROFANE STATE.
Meantime the old sore of his debts corrupts
and festers. He is careless to take out the
dead flesh, or to discharge either principal or
interest. Such small leaks are not worth the
stopping or searching for till they be greater;
he should undervalue himself to pay a sum
before it grew considerable for a man of his
estate. Nor can he be more careless to pay
than the usurer is willing to continue the debt,
knowing that his bonds, like infants, battil best
with sleeping.
Vacation is his vocation, and he scorns to
follow any profession, and will not be confined
to any laudable employment. But they who
count a calling a prison, shall at last make a
prison their calling.  He instils also his lazy
principles into his children, being of' the same
opinion with the Neapolitan gentry, who stand
so on the puntos of their honor that they
prefer robbery before industry, and will rather
suffer their daughter to make merchandise of
her chastity than marry the richest merchant.
Drinking is one of the principal liberal sciences he professeth, -a most ungenteel quality,
fit to be banished to rogues and rags. It was
anciently counted a Dutch vice, and swarmed
most in that country. I remember a sad accident which happened to Fliolmus, King of
Gothland, who, whilst a lord of misrule ruled
in his court, and both he and his servants were




THE DEGENEROUS GENTLEMAN.   313
drunk, in mere merriment, meaning no harm,
they took the king and put him in jest into a
great vessel of beer, and drowned him in earnest. But one tells us that this ancient and
habited vice is amongst the Dutch of late years
much decreased; which if it be not, would it
were. Sure our mariners observe, that, as the
sea grows daily shallower and shallower on the
shores of Holland and Zealand, so the channel
of late waxeth deeper on the coasts of Kent
and Essex. I pray God, if drunkenness ebbs
in Dutchland, it doth not flow in England, and
gain not in the island what it loseth in the continent. Yea, some plead when overwhelmed
with liquor that their thirst is but quenched;
as well may they say that in Noah's flood the
dust was but sufficiently allayed.
Gaming is another art he studies much, —
an enticing witch that hath caused the ruin of
many. Hannibal said of Marcellus, that nee
bonam nee malam fortunam ferre potest; he
could be quiet neither conqueror nor conquered: thus such is the itch of play, that
gamesters neither winning nor losing can rest
contented.  One propounded this question,
whether men in ships on sea were to be
accounted among the living or the dead, because there were but few inches betwixt
them and drowning. The same scruple may
be made of great gamesters, though their es



314       THE PROFANE STATE.
tates be never so great, whether they are to
be esteemed poor or rich, there being but a
few casts at dice betwixt a gentleman (in
great game) and a beggar. Our gallant games
deeply, and makes no doubt in conscience to
adventure advowsons, patronages, and churchlivings in gaming. He might call to mind Sir
Miles Pateridge, who (as the soldiers cast lots
for Christ his coat) played at dice for Jesus'
bells with King Henry the Eighth, and won
them of him. Thus he brought the bells to ring
in his pocket, but the ropes afterwards catched
about his neck, and for some offences he was
hanged in the days of King Edward the Sixth.
Then first he sells the outworks of his state,
some straggling manor. Nor is be sensible of
this sale, which makes his means more entire,
as counting the gathering of such scattering
rents rather burdensome than profitable. This
he sells at half the value, so that the feathers
will buy the goose, and the wood will pay for
the ground. With this money, if he stops the
hole to one creditor, by his prodigality he presently opens a wider gap to another.
By this time the long dormant usurer ramps
for the payment of his money. The principal,
the grandmother, and the use, the daughter,
and the use upon use, the grandchild, and perchance a generation farther, hath swelled the
debt to an incredible sum, for the satisfying




THE DEGENEROUS GENTLEMAN.   310
whereof our gallant sells the moiety of his
estate.
Having sold half his land, he abates nothing
of his expenses, but thinks five hundred pounds
a year will be enough to maintain that for
which a thousand pound was too little. He
will not stoop till he falls, nor lessen his kennel
of dogs till, with Actaeon, he be eaten up with
his own hounds.
Being about to sink, he catcheth at every
rush to save himself. Perchance sometimes
he snatcheth at the thistle of a project, which
first pricks his hands and then breaks. Herein,
it may be, he adventured on a matter wherein
he had no skill himself, (hoping, by letting the
commonwealth blood, to fill up his own veins
again,) and therefore trades with his partner's
brains, as his partner with his purse, till both
miscarry together; or else it may be he catcheth hold on the heel of another man who is
in as dangerous a case as himself, and they
embracing each other in mutual bonds, hasten
their drowning together.  His last manor he
sells twice, to a country gentleman and a London usurer, —though the last, as having the
first title, prevails to possess it; usurers herein
being like unto foxes; they seldom take pains
to dig any holes themselves, but earth in that
which the foolish badger made for them, and
dwell in the manors and fair houses which
others have built and provided.




316        THE PR OFANE S TA TE.
Having lost his own legs, he relies on the
staff of his kindred; first visiting them as an
intermitting ague, but afterwards turns a quotidian, wearing their thresholds as bare as his
own coat.  At last, he is as welcome as a
storm; he that is abroad shelters himself from
it, and he that is at home shuts the door. If
he intrudes himself yet, some with their jeering tongues give him many a gird, but his
brazen impudence feels nothing; and let him
be armed on free-cost with the pot and the
pipe, he will give them leave to shoot their
flouts at him till they be weary. Sometimes
he sadly paceth over the ground he sold, and
is on fire with anger with himself for his folly,
but presently quencheth it at the next alehouse.
Having undone himself, he sets up the trade
to undo others. If he can but screw himself
into the acquaintance of a rich heir, he rejoiceth as much at the prize as the Hollanders
when they had intercepted the Plate fleet.
He tutors this young gamester in vice, leading him a more compendious way to his ruin
than possibly he could find out of himself.
And doth not the guide deserve good wages
for his direction?
Perhaps he behaves himself so basely that he
is degraded, - the sad and solemn ceremonies
whereof we may meet with in old precedents;




THE DEGENEROUS GENTLEMAN.    317
but of them  all, in my apprehension, none
should make deeper impression in an ingenuous soul than this one, that at the solemn degradation of a knight for high misdemeanor,
the king and twelve knights more did put on
mourning garments as an emblem of sorrow
for this injury to honor, that a man, gentle by
birth and blood, or honored by a prince's favor,
should so far forget not only himself but his
order as to deserve so severe punishment.
His death is as miserable as his life hath been
vicious. An hospital is the height he hopes to
be advanced to; but commonly he dies not in
so charitable a prison, but sings his last note
in a cage. Nor is it impossible but that, wanting land of his own, he may encroach on the
king's highway; and there, taking himself to
be lord of the soil, seize on travellers as strays
due unto him, and so the hangman give him a
wreath more than he had in his arms before.
If he dies at liberty, in his pilgrimage betwixt
the houses of his acquaintance, perhaps some
well-disposed gentleman may pay for his burial,
and truly mourn at the funeral of an ancient
family. His children, if any, must seek their
fortunes the farther off, because their father
found his too soon, before he had wisdom to
manage them. Within two generations his
name is quite forgotten, that ever any such was
in the place, except some herald in his visitation




318        THE PR OFANE S TA TE.
pass by, and chance to spell his broken arms in
a church-window. And then how weak a thing
is gentry, than which (if it wants virtue) brittle
glass is the more lasting monument!
THE TRAITOR.
A TRAITOR works by fraud, as a rebel does
by force, and in this respect is more dangerous, because there's less stock required to
set him up. Rebellion must be managed with
many swords; treason to his prince's person
may be with one knife. Generally their success is as bad as their cause, being either detected before, defeated in, or punished after
their part acted; detected before, either by
wilfulness or weakness of those which are privy
to it.
A plotter of treason puts his head into the
halter, and the halter into his hand to whom
he first imparts it. He oftentimes reveals it,
and by making a footstool of his friend's head,
climbs up the higher into the prince's favor.
Some men's souls are not strong enough but
that a weighty secret will work a hole through
them. These, rather out of folly than falseness, unawares let fall words which are taken
up by the judicious ears of such who can spell
treason by putting together distracted s)llables




TiE TRAITOR.             319
and by piecing of broken sentences. Others
have their hearts swollen so great with hope
of what they shall get that their bodies are too
little to hold them, and so betray themselves by
threatenings and blustering language. Others
have cut their throats with their own hands, -
their own writings, the best records, being produced against them. And here we must know,
that
Strong presumptions sometimes serve for
proofs in point of treason; for it being a deed
of darkness, it is madness to look that the sun
should shine at midnight, and to expect evident proof. Should princes delay till they did
plainly see treason, they might chance to feel
it first. If this semiplena probatio lights on a
party suspected before, the party himself is the
other part of the proof, and makes it complete.
And here the rack, though fame-like it be
"Tam ficti pravique tenax, quam nuncia veri,"
is often used; and the wooden horse hath told
strange secrets.  But grant it pass undiscovered in the plotting, it is commonly prevented
in the practising,
By the majesty, innocency, or valor of the
prince or his attendants.  Some have been
dazzled with the divine beams shining in a
prince's face, so that coming to command his
life, they could not be masters of their own




320        THE PROFANE STATE.
senses. Innocency hath protected others, and
made their enemies relent; and pity, though a
stranger to him for many years before, hath
visited a traitor's heart in that very instant.
If these fail, a king's valor hath defended him;
it being most true of a king what Pliny reports
of a lion, in hunting if he be wounded and not
killed, he will be sure to eye and kill him that
wounded him.
Some, by flourishing aforehand, have never
stricken a blow; but by warning have armed
those to whom they threatened.  Thus mad
Somerville, coming to kill Queen Elizabeth, by
the way (belike to try whether his sword
would cut) quarrelled with and wounded one
or two, and therefore was apprehended before
he came to the court.
The palsy of guiltiness hath made the stoutest traitors' hands to shake, sometimes to miss
their mark. Their conscience, sleeping before,
is then awakened with this crying sin. The
way seems but short to a traveller when he
views it from the top of a hill, who finds it very
long when he comes into the plain: so treason,
surveyed in the heat of blood and from the
height of passion, seems easy to be effected;
which, reviewed in cold blood, on even terms,
is full of dangers and difficulties. If it speed
in the acting, generally it's revenged afterwards: for,




THfE TYRANT.            321
A king though killed is not killed, so long as
he hath son or subject surviving. Many who
have thought they have discharged the debt,
have been broken afterwards with the arrearages. As for journeymen-traitors, who work
for others, their wages are ever paid them with
a halter; and where one gaineth a garland of
bays, hundreds have had a wreath of hemp.
THE TYRANT.
A TYRANT is one whose list is his law,
making his subjects his slaves. Yet that
is but a tottering kingdom which is founded on
trembling people, which fear and hate their
sovereign.
He gets all places of advantage into his own
hands; yea, lie would disarm his subjects of all
scythes and pruning-hooks, but for fear of a
general rebellion of weeds and thistles in the
land.
He takes the laws at the first rather by
undermining than assault; and therefore, to do
unjustly with the more justice, he counterfeits
a legality in all his proceedings, and will not
butcher a man without a statute for it.
Afterwards he rageth freely in innocent
blood.  Is any man virtuous? then lie is a
21




322        THE PROFANE STATE.
traitor, and let him die for it who durst presume to be good when his prince is bad. Is
he beloved? he is a rebel, hath proclaimed
himself king, and reigns already in people's
affections; it must cost him his life.  Is he
of kin to the crown, though so far off that his
alliance is scarce to be derived? all the veins
of his body must be drained and emptied, to
find there and fetch thence that dangerous drop
of royal blood.  And thus having taken the
prime men away, the rest are easily subdued.
In all these particulars Machlavel is his only
counsellor; who, in his "Prince," seems to him
to resolve all these cases of conscience to be
very lawful.
Worst men are his greatest favorites. He
keeps a constant kennel of bloodhounds to accuse whom he pleaseth.  These will depose
more than any can suppose, not sticking to
swear that they heard fishes speak, and saw
through a millstone at midnight. These fear
not to forswear, but fear they shall not forswear enough to cleave the pin and do the
deed.  The less credit they have the more
they are believed, and their very accusation is
held a proof.
He leaves nothing that his poor subjects can
call their own but their miseries. And as in
the West Indies thousands of kine are killed
for their tallow alone, and their flesh cast




THE TYRANT.             323
away, so many men are murdered merely
for their wealth, that other men may make
mummy of the fat of their estates.
He counts men in misery the most melodious instruments: especially if they be well
tuned and played upon by cunning musicians,
who are artificial in tormenting them, the more
the merrier; and if he hath a set and full
concert of such tortured, miserable souls, he
danceth most cheerfully at the pleasant ditty
of their dying groans.  He loves not to be
prodigal of men's lives, but thriftily improves
the objects of his cruelty, spending them by
degrees, and epicurizing on their pain; so that,
as Philoxenus wished a crane's throat, he could
desire asses' ears, the longer to entertain their
hideous and miserable roaring.  Thus nature
had not racks enough for men (the colic, gout,
stone, &c.) but art must add to them, and
devils in flesh antedate hell here in inventing
torments: which, when inflicted on malefactors, extort pity from merciful beholders, (and
make them give what is not due,) but when
used by tyrants on innocent people, such tender hearts as stand by suffer what they see,
and by the proxy of sympathy feel what they
behold.
He seeks to suppress all memorials and writings of his actions; and as wicked Tereus, after
he had ravished Philomela, cut out her tongue,




324        TIlE PROFANE STATE.
so, when tyrants have wronged and abused the
times they live in, they endeavor to make them
speechless to tell no tales to posterity. Herein
their folly is more to be admired than their
malice, for learning can never be drained dry.
Though it may be dammed up for one age, yet
it will break over; and historians' pens, being
long kept fasting, will afterwards feed more
greedily on the memories of tyrants, and describe them to the full. Yea, I believe their
ink hath made some tyrants blacker than they
were in their true complexion.
At last he is haunted with the terrors of his
own conscience.  If any two do but whisper
together (whatsoever the propositions be), he
conceives their discourse concludes against him.
Company and solitariness are equally dreadful
unto him, being never safe; and he wants a
guard to guard him from his- guard, and so
proceeds in infinitum. The scouts of Charles,
Duke of Burgundy, brought him news that the
French army was hard by, being nothing else
but a field full of high thistles, whose tops they
mistook for so many spears. On lesser ground
this tyrant conceives greater fears.  Thus in
vain doth he seek to fence himself from without,whose foe is within him.
He is glad to patch up a bad night's sleep
out of pieces of slumber. They seldom sleep
soundly who have blood for their bolster. His




TEE TYRANVT.            325
fancy presents him  with  strange masques,
wherein only fiends and furies are actors. The
fright awakes him, and he is no sooner glad
that it was a dream but fears it is prophetical.
In vain he courts the friendship of foreign
princes. They defy his amity, and will not
join their clean hands with his bloody ones.
Sometimes, to ingratiate himself, he doth some
good acts; but virtue becomes him worse than
vice, for all know he counterfeits it for his own
ends.
Having lived in other men's blood, he dies
commonly in his own. He had his will all his
life, but seldom makes his testament at his
death, being suddenly taken away, either by
private hand or public insurrection.  It is
observed of the camel, that it lies quietly down
till it hath its full load, and then riseth up.
But this vulgus is a kind of beast which riseth
up soonest when it is overladen; immoderate
cruelty causing it to rebel. " Tero " is a fitter
motto than "Ferio " for Christians in their
carriage towards lawful authority, though unlawfully used.
THE END.